Grande Dame
by Lyta Halifax
Summary: A willing sacrifice derailed. A nascent love revealed. A town devastated beyond belief. When Chloe Price is given the second chance she neither wanted nor expected, she finds new purpose in doing the impossible: giving a damn about Arcadia Bay. [Post Ep-5 Pricefield.]
1. Chapter 1

"Max...it's time."

Chloe stared hard, meaningfully through the driving rain at Max, the girl...no, the woman who had literally twisted reality like putty to keep her alive and safe, time and time again. She couldn't imagine even a fraction of the horrors that Max had endured, all that she suffered, putting her health and her sanity at constant risk, all for...

 _...for some...some punk who doesn't deserve her faith. Her loyalty or her...her..._

"Chloe", Max cried out, voice on the verge of cracking. "I'm so, so sorry. I don't want to do this!" There was a look of defeat on her face, of helpless desperation. As if wishing, hoping Chloe might talk her out of it at the last minute.

 _Can't let that happen!_

Chloe closed her eyes for a moment, willing herself to draw deep from wells of courage that she was pretty sure she didn't actually possess; but for Max, she'd fake it. She'd take a bullet for her, and from the sounds of the stories Max told over the past week, she already had, more than once.

 _This is a good thing. I'm blessed. How many people...how many, get a chance to say goodbye, to have one last shining moment in the sun, before they die? How many people get to understand the reasons why it has to end?_

"I know Max, but we have to save everybody, okay?"

Arcadia Bay. How she hated the place! _Had_ hated it, certainly. But no one - not a single damn one of those people - deserved what was headed their way. No one else deserved to die.

Well...

 _...maybe those assholes Nathan and Jefferson. But they'll get theirs. Max, my Max...she's gonna..._

"And you'll make those fuckers pay for what they did to Rachel!"

She was still in shock, she'd barely found out, was still reeling from the blow. Chloe hadn't realized how much she loved Rachel Amber. Maybe she had her faults, but she'd been a shining star of comfort in the otherwise pathetic wreck of a life that'd become Chloe's teenage years.

 _If my death saves the town_ and _ensures justice for her...then...then do it!_

"Being together this week..." Chloe continued, her voice straining. "It was the best farewell gift I could have hoped for. You're my hero, Max."

The air hung heavy with expectation, as they silently stared at each other. And then the normally shy brunette surprised the absolute hell out of her. Reaching up, Cupping her face.

Kissing her.

There was such a purity in that moment, two hearts interconnected. Chloe kissed her back, surrendering fully to this moment in time, embracing her destiny, as her hands tentatively moved up to grip Max by the hips. In the span of that short, sweet kiss, she tried to live for a lifetime. By and large, she still wasn't sure exactly how she felt about Max, past the point of friendship. She wasn't an idiot though; she felt those electric sparks between them, the sweet frisson of desire, a palpable thing. But the confirmation of Rachel's death was still a fresh wound in her heart, and Max...

 _She's been through enough without any more emotional bullshit and baggage to contend with. It doesn't matter now. We have this moment in time that is ours. Forever. No one can ever take it away from us._

The real world, the normal flow of time, with its complications, and morning afters, and day after day after day rolling on; none of that existed for Chloe, not anymore. She was free...free to take a chance, before stepping off, into that good night. Exerunt, stage left.

"I'll always love you. Now get out of here, please. Do it before I freak!" her voice rose in tone, spiderweb cracks chipping away at her bravado.

"And Max Caulfield...don't you forget about me!"

 _Not that I ever have to doubt it. Not that I ever have to doubt you. You'll live for us both, Max. Thank you. I love you._

"Never." Max promised

And then it was time. Time to die. For real this time. No take backs , no rewinds, no clever tricks. There'd be no cavalry coming to the charge, no Super Max to save the day.

 _I hope you find peace Max. Please don't blame yourself. You have nothing, not a single fucking damn thing to feel guilty about! You've given me nothing but joy. You're an angel. Now...go fly!_

Max turned away from her. Gripped the picture of the butterfly in her hands, the one Chloe relinquished back.

Chloe couldn't watch, but she couldn't look away either. She wondered what it would be like. Dying, that is. Being shot. Would it hurt much? Maybe the shock would overwhelm the pain. Would Max stay in the bathroom while it happened, or would she run out, as quick as she could, so as not to witness.

Would Chloe's father be there to greet her...wherever she ended up next?

The wind gusted in fresh, hard bursts, and Chloe struggled to keep warm, pulling her jacket tigheter around her.

 _At...at least I'll be warm when I'm about to die...yeah?_

She gave a tiny, hoarse giggle at the thought.

Another gust of wind, and then something wholly unexpected occured

The picture flew out from Max's fingers, where it became easily captured by the raging currents of the storm, carried out to irretrievable oblivion from the edge of the cliff.

Just like that, her doom, her salvation. Gone.

It didn't register with either of them. Not immediately. Not for ten seconds, not for thirty. Nearly a full minute passed before either of them could act on what just transpired.

Max fell to her knees, sobbing inconsolably. Chloe rushed forward, wrapping her arms around her.

"Max. Max!"

Max hiccuped with hysterical sobs. "Oh! Oh God...oh Go-o-o-d! Chloe! I'm sorry. I'm so, so, so sorry! I...I lost..." Then she reached out as if somehow the picture might fly back into her hands. Like she was trying to rewind what just happened, and failing.

 _And wouldn't that be something? One last joke, one last kick in the dick from the Man Upstairs._

But there was nothing left but the two of them. And the storm.

They watched in anguished silence, huddling close against each other as the tornado tore through Arcadia Bay.

* * *

The night was long, and neither of them slept much as they clung together for warmth and comfort, hudled up in the back of Chloe's pickup truck. Taking refuge under the musty sleeping bag that Chloe stowed away for the occasional road trip.

Max shivered, crying and mewling all the while.

"I'm sorry...my fault, Chloe...my fault."

She stroked Max's hair, shsshed her. Held her close, kept her safe. Whispered reassurances.

"No...no it's not. I promise you, it's not. Shit...shit happens."

 _Still...what the fuck, Realty? You want me to die, then when I finally say yes, you jerk it away. What the literal fuck is wrong with you?!_

"Chloe...can't...can't breathe...I can't breathe..!"

She rubbed the other girls back, reassuringly, keeping her voice as calm and soothing as possible. "Max. Just listen to me, Max. It's just...panic. Just a panic attack. That's all. I know exactly how you feel at the moment. Please, believe me!"

"I'm dying! Dying..." Max creeled, shuddering hard.

"You're not! You'renotyou'renot, oh God, I promise you. We're gonna be okay. I promise you. Just relax. Just keep focusing on...on..."

 _On what? Whatcha got to fix this situation with, Doctor Price?_

"C-can't rewind. Powers...I think my powers are gone, Chloe!"

Chloe could work with that. "H-ha. Ha ha. Figures. Probably just as well. So...then you just focus on the future, Max. Or not. Or on this moment. Or just...whatever you need from me, Max. Whatever you need. I'm yours. I swear to you. I'm all yours."

Max leaned her head in, pressed against her chest, and inhaled hard. Her hyperventilating cadence slowly came under control. She looked up at her again, eyes still wide, searching...

Chloe felt Max's forehead nestle against each her own. Felt, more than heard her whisper out, "Thank you."

There were no more words for the rest of the night. They communicated only by touch. The occasional soft kisses and tender nuzzles. Lingering glances. Chloe certainly responded physically, to the weight of Max's body. Her warmth, and especially her scent. But it wasn't a sexual thing, either. There was nothing more - or less - than this incredible, intense intimacy, a timeless purgatory where the world existed for the two of them alone.

The winds continued to howl, through the storm was already receding. Max dropped off to slumber, and Chloe wasn't far behind her.

Her last sleepy thoughts melted through her brain, before dropping off.

 _No second acts in American lives. That what you said, Fitzgerald? Huh. Fuck you. Shows what you know. And who knows how long this act lasts. Can't help but feel like I'm a dead woman. But I'm still alive, too._

Her eyes finally closed, and she swore:

 _No regrets. No fears. No time wasted jumping at every shadow or loud noise. If you want me to live, World, then I will. If you want me to fucking die, then come and take me. But don't expect me to beg for mercy._

* * *

The morning was as still and bright as the night had been dark and cacophonous. The town was an absolute disaster area, like a giant toddle had run riot through the streets, aimlessly smashing utility poles, trucks, and...

"Oh...shit. Is that one of the whale carcases? On the motherfucking roof?!"

Max looked away, closing her eyes tight.

Still...it didn't look as bleak as Chloe initially imagined. There were various signs of life. A few buildings were tested in full by the storm and found worthy. Including and especially...

"Oh...God! The diner...Max!"

She pulled the truck over to the side of the road. Or, rather, whatever place looked best. There weren't much in the way of roads to speak of by this point.

Max glanced over at her, blinking blearily and asked. "We're stopping?"

"Uh, duh? Yeah! C'mon, Max?" She trotted around to the other side of the truck cab, opening the door, and holding out her hand nonchalantly.

Max took it, hesitantly. "Y-you really think...anyone's still alive?"

"No fucking clue." Chloe answered, her voice steeled with determination. "But we can't just drive away. We can't turn our backs on this place. If there's any chance even one person's alive and needs help."

 _Whoa there, Che. Where's this newfound sense of civic duty suddenly coming from? When'd you start caring about this shithole town?_

Chloe narrowed her eyes. Forced herself to look at, really look at, and absorb all the devastation and destruction.

 _When? I'll tell you. When Arcadia Bay got turned into my blood sacrifice. Maybe I hated this place...maybe I still kinda do. But fuck if I'm going to turn my back on it now. Not when I owe it. Big._

The only thing that could take her away from the Bay now now was Max herself. Only if she just hoped that wouldn't happen, at least not for a while.

Max took her hand and nodded. Together they made their way to the diner. Carefully they opened the rear door, the one leading to the reinforced storage room. A soft, female groan, raspy with pain, called out.

"S-someone there? Please? Anyone? I c-cant...my legs..."

Chloe's heart frozen a beat.

"M-mom! Mom, I'm here!"

There was a pause, and then relief exploded into Joyce's voice. "Chloe? Oh...my baby girl! Oh God, oh God...I'm so...so happy you're safe. Please, be careful! It's a mess in here. Dangerous. Is Max with you?"

As her eyes adjusted to the darkness, Chloe could see just how bad it was. The structure itself was still sound, but the shelves, and their heavy loads had all tipped over. Chloe could barely make her Mom out now, the outline of her body, half buried under institutional sized cans of soup and peaches.

There was another groan; lower, male.

"Christ...Chloe. Max? You two bit..." Frank cut himself short, mindful of Joyce's presence in the room. "...kids out there. Ugh. Figured you were both dead. Shit...wish I was. Think I've...broken every fucking bone in my body. Least in my limbs. Fuck...huh...ha! B-but I'm not dead, yet. Grim Reaper ain't taking me...not today!"

Chloe hugged herself as she stared out. What was she supposed to do? What...what _could_ she do?

Max murmured, pulling at her hair, unable to make herself look inside. "Chloe. We...we can't move them. I read somewhere, sometimes you can hurt people even more, if you do that."

Chloe nodded once, in return. "And we don't know how unstable all that shit inside is. We're gonna..." she called out. "Guys! We're gonna find help, okay? I promise! We're gonna get you some help. I mean...if nothing else, the National Guard's probably coming...right? Gotta be a few cops around and...I swear! I swear, we are bringing help!"

Chloe gently gripped Max's shoulders and murmured. "Right. Max? Can you stay here? Keep them company...and...just so they know someone's out there?"

Max turned white as a sheet, started to tremble. Swallowed hard, and whimpered. "Chloe...s-sorry. I can't. I can't, please don't leave me behind. Please? Not right now." The other girls hand became like a death grip on her own.

 _Oh Max. My poor...you've had to be so strong. Had to keep pushing yourself, over and over, breaking yourself inside, and just walking it off. You thought you were going to kill me, and now you blame yourself for not going through with it. And what happened afterwards..._

 _None of this is your fault..._

"All right." Chloe breathed out. She whispered low and said, "I've got this." She then raised her voice, calling into the store room. "Mom! Max and I we...we're gonna split up. We'll cover more ground that way. I promise you, I promise you, everything is going to be okay. We're gonna get help, and this nightmare...fucking nightmare's gonna be over."

"Please be careful, Chloe! We...we'll hold on."

"Speak for yourself...Christ, it hurts." Frank grunted.

Max flashed Chloe a humiliated, but grateful half-smile, as they walked away, intent on trying to find some aid.

"I suppose we could drive until we got a cell signal, if we had to. Fucking hate to leave Mom alone that long, but...but what if it's just the five of us alive, right now? Ugh, don't even want to consider it."

As fortune would have it, they didn't have to search longer than fifteen minutes before help came to them.

"Chloe!" a voice roared out, a mixture of triumph and relief.

She turned, peering over her shoulder to see who was calling out. Didn't even care who; maybe it was hella naive, but right now, any face she found was a friendly one.

David Madsen wasn't anyone she'd previously label as 'friendly' but right now, right this moment...

Her legs ran off ahead of her brain, which meant, of course, that the rest of her body lost the committee vote, and were now legally obligated to follow. Dashing over piles of rubble and debris, nearly tripping at one point, she skidded to a halt in front of him. Then paused, looking up at him, as he looked down at her, smiling.

Actually, fucking smiling.

Did she hug him? Or he her? Or did they do it together? It didn't matter.

 _Oh shit...oh shit, David. I am so..._

"...glad to see you. You've no hella idea!" she said, finishing her thought.

"Chloe! Oh God, I'm so glad you're safe! You have no idea how much it was killing me, having to stay down in that bunker while the storm passed. But...but you were right. That psycho-sicko Jefferson was down there. Just like you said. Oh...Chloe. I'm so sorry. I should have...it's all..."

"It's okay, it's okay, seriously, it's okay." Chloe huffed out, on the verge of tears of relief. "We can have this talk later, okay? Can't, can't promise everything is going to be cool forever between us, but right now? You are seriously one of my favorite people in the world!. So glad I found you. It's Mom...she's hurt! She's alive but she's hurt, and a bunch of other people in the diner, and..."

That was when she glanced over his shoulder, at the assembled groups. Cops, mostly. A few she knew, mostly under unpleasant past circumstances.

 _Don't fucking care. Today, we're all on the same side._

Behind them, still in her outfit from last night's dance party, her mascara smeared, eyes wide with chilling fear and disbelief, was Victoria Chase.

 _Oh shit. Jefferson must have grabbed her when Max and I didn't fall for his trap. Fucking hella shit...poor Victoria. After what Max told me..._

Max herself was already in action, moving towards her one-time rival. Her arms held out, encircling her. It was an embrace that Victoria was more than happy to receive, and to reciprocate. But it had the initial effect of prompting a complete breakdown in the pixie-cut blonde, burying her face against Max's shoulder and sobbing hysterically.

"Max! I'm sorry. You tried to warn me. I didn't want to believe it, not really. But I was so happy, when...when he told me I won..."

Max stroked her hair, and nodded. She bit down on her lip, closed her eyes tight, in obvious shared remembrance of her own time in the Dark Room.

"I was so scared! He was going to kill me, Max. I mean, he killed Rachel too, right? Right?! But...but then..." Victoria started to laugh, looping up from low to high on her emotional rollercoaster." That place, that fucking, shitty, terrible place. It saved us, Max! We'd be dead anywhere else, we'd be..."

Victoria trailed off. Looked around the ruins of Main Street, as if for the first time.

A low, keening wail of hopelessness escaped her throat, quickly becoming muffled against Max's shoulder. The blonde seemed to lose what little strength was holding her up, and she collapsed to the ground. Max slowly guided her down, doing her best to comfort her.

Chloe nodded once as Max gave her a knowing look.

 _She's got this. Max...probably having her own trouble not freaking out either. Couldn't handle the scene at Two Whales, but...she's got this._

Chloe regarded the assembled throng of lawmen and her step-father, and said. "Okay, this isn't me telling you guys how to do your jobs, because you fuck all know a damn more than me. But I'm begging you, please..." She actually put her hands together, clasping them in an exaggerated, pleading fashion. "I've got people hurt bad at the diner. Buried under metal and cans and...and there's medical supplies there, so that's good, right? Building itself is in okay shape, good central gathering point so...just...please, please help?"

David looked at the officers, who gazed back at him, then Chloe. Almost at once, they started to nod. This, they could understand. A problem they could attend to. It was much easier to think of Arcadia Bay that way right now; not as a singular, unified mass of hopeless devastation beyond all salvation, but merely a nigh-infinite bucket of problems that they could try and solve, one by one.

Wrapping a comradely arm around her shoulders, David said, "Chloe...you never have to ask for help. Never again. It's always yours, from now on. Now, let's go and save your mother."

* * *

The day never seemed to end, and yet nightfall came too quickly. Working with slow, careful precision, they dug the diner-goers out.

Joyce was in bad shape; she still couldn't feel her legs, and while Chloe could only assume the worst, she didn't have the luxury of becoming overly wrapped up in emotional responses.

 _Eyes forward, soldier. You've got a mission to...oh fuck, I can't believe I'm actually starting to think like this! Damnit, David! Can't even call you step-douche anymore. You don't deserve that from me._

And yet, Joyce came off the most fortunate of lot. Frank had multiple fractures in all four of his limbs; the saving grace was that neither his head nor the core of his body had taking much in the way of hits.

The same, unfortunately, could not be said of Warren.

The pronouncement from the EMT who'd managed to weather the storm and make his way into town was grim. "Pupils are dilated. Response...it isn't good. If we don't get him to a hospital soon, I just can't say whether he'll..."

Still, at least he had a chance. Unlike the poor fisherman who was dead.

Max took his death pretty hard for some reason when she finally found out. She curled up at what was left of one of the counters. Victoria, having managed to recover to some extent, tried to comfort her as best as she could, hugging her, holding her hand.

The light pang of jealousy that suddenly throbbed in Chloe's sternum failed to go unnoticed, even as she assured herself this was just completely platonic bonding.

 _Damn though, I need to do some more shit, or this is going to drive me nuts..._

Chloe busied herself, looking for a task, any task, that she could take care of. Anything at all to keep her mind focused and distracted. Taking inventory of the food - and thankfully, there was plenty of it, the diner had recently re-stocked its shelves. Working with the cops to establish a temporary communications system via their CB radios. Going from house to house, trying to locate survivors, or at least take note of where the dead lay. Sometimes, she'd find a corpse, laying out in the middle of the road, and did her best not to think, simply shut her brain down, as she dragged them into whatever nearby shelter could protect them from the elements.

 _These poor people. They deserve to be identified, get a proper burial. Don't want to think about it, but the coyotes might start taking an interesting in all these bodies if we don't get them secured._

Chloe wasn't sure what was worse: the death toll, or the casualties. Not just the dead but the people who were injured. Suffering from wounds physical, or even simply mental. More people were alive than she initially bargained for, and she did her best to take comfort in that fact. Some were ecstatic to be found, to be sent off to the diner, which, as Chloe predicted, was becoming the central rally point for the survivors in town.

Others? Arcadia was a small rural town, and sometimes people just went strange. Hours passed, and Chloe still had trouble guessing whether someone was going to join together to aid the community, or if they'd just as likely level a shotgun on her, convinced that their fellow townspeople were looking for any excuse to fall back into their darker impulses. To start with the looting, with victimizing one another. Acting no better than fucking animals.

In struck Chloe as odd, this impromptu, real world education she was getting in how human behavior actually functioned. Her heart soared, if just a bit, the few times she came across others such as herself, walking around town. Working to combine resources, food and water and medicine. Checking up on people, letting other folks know that the worst had past. And there were definitely people who needed to be told. Nothing brings out the worst...or the best in others like a crisis.

That was the thing of it: it was like most people were just waiting for someone else to come along, and tell them everything was going to be fine before they could start to move ahead on their own. Give them that much, and they'd come out of whatever state of disbelief was anchoring them down and start to contribute. Others couldn't get past the fear and trauma so easily, that strange human helplessness, where all the available choices seem so terrifying that, on the surface at least, it seems safer to do nothing at all but just keep waiting.

"Well...I...I was safe. Safer. I didn't have to go through it." Chloe told herself, more than once.

 _No, you just had to stand there and watch, knowing your whole existence was the reason why. You're trying to save this town right now? That's a fucking laugh. You're the last person Arcadia Bay needs hanging around. Fuck, you should just pick up with Max and leave...like right now! Leave these people alone!_

She closed her eyes tight for a minute, willing the growing storm in her mind to subside. Now wasn't the time.

* * *

It was nine PM before the first rescue crews finally crept into town. They were greeted by enthusiastic cheers. Blankets and cots were passed out. A makeshift tent city was pitched. Medical teams swept through, triaging the absolute worst of the injured, and calling in air rescue vehicles to helicopter them out to intensive care.

Warren, Frank, and Joyce were the first to be airlifted away.

It was almost midnight before Chloe found herself simply running out of steam. There was nothing left that she could immediately take care of, and God knew her bones just...ached.

 _Fuck, my_ soul _aches right now..._

She found herself sitting on one of the scratchy canvas cots, wrapped in an equally scratchy blanket, nursing a cup of - well, it wasn't coffee, but it was hot, and it was drinkable, and that was about all she needed out of life at the moment.

"Good job, by the way." one of the relief workers said, as he walked slowly towards her. Chloe didn't respond immediately. To be honest, she didn't even think he was addressing her at all.

"Mmm. Wha'? Sorry...you...you're talking to me?"

"Yeah. You're Chloe Price, right?" he asked.

She laughed once. "Guilty."

"People here are all telling me the same story. How you started looking for survivors, getting help. Sending people to one central location. You and a few others...that's all it takes, you know? A few people to be a catalyst, an example. Someone they can look to for guidance."

She snorted, taking a sip of her whatever the fuck was in the cup, and groused, "Make me sound like some kind of leader. I'm just...I just wanted to get help for my Mom, okay? And my friend...friends. And it just kinda..." she stared out, before continuing, her voice fading to almost nothing. "I had to do something to keep from thinking about it. The storm, and what happened and..."

The man nodded once, "Well...people lead by example. And in a crisis like this, most folks usually go in only one of two or three ways. They either get the hell out or they stay. And if they _do_ stay, they either help people out, or they only think of themselves. All it takes is just a few people giving the right - or the wrong - example. Things snowball from there."

"Butterfly effect." Chloe breathed out.

"Pardon?"

"N-nothing. But...but thanks. Really. I'm so glad you guys came as fast as you did, but I have to find someone. See ya."

He waved. "Just keep doing what you're doing, Ms. Price. I know it's hard to believe now, but this town is going to pull through, as long as it has people like you. People who care."

She half-waved back, draining the dregs of - chicken noodle ramen, that's what the hell it was! And then went to track down Max.

 _People like me? People who care. Ha! Christ, that's a fucking dash of irony, isn't it? What a hella joke. Like I actually care about Arc-Hate-Ya..._

She stopped short. Stood her ground, took in the scents, the sounds. The biting crispness of the early Autumn air. The crackle of various campfires, the soft, low hum of people talking, punctuated by the occasional cry. Beyond the small circle of light thrown up by the emergency spots, the rest of the town came across as dark, dangerous and uninviting, bereft as it was of light, heat, or water.

She was literally in the only stronghold of civilization for miles. This encampment - hers, because yes, she did suddenly have this crazy, almost possessive sense about it - was the only nucleus of hope left.

She started to pace, scrub her hands together nervously, like she could feel the weight of a million gazes pressing down upon her.

 _Fuck. This is on me. These people paid the price, so I could go on living. And who knows how long that's gonna last? All I know, there's still a bullseye on my back. A bullet, or a germ, or a train, or a knife with my name on it. So I guess I gotta do what I can, with what little time I may or may not have left. Gotta pay it back...gotta pay it..._

She was so relieved then, when she managed to find Max, curled up on one of the cots. It felt like years had passed since she last saw her...her...

 _...my what? Where do we go now, Max? What happens to us? I mean, it's probably too soon to talk about You plus Me. But, I can't just pretend like we didn't kiss. More to the point,_ you _kissed me. And I kissed you back. Probably not fair, 'cause you thought I was gonna die, and you'd never see me again. Still, it's you acting from the heart, right?_

All the same, she didn't want to rush it. She didn't feel like the middle of a disaster area was the appropriate place to sit down and hash out the deep vagaries of her precious fee-fees vis a vis the toothsome Miss Max Caulfield. At the same time, she closed her eyes, and remembered the previous night.

 _I can't get it out of my system, Max. We were so...all we needed was each other. I want to feel that again, with you. Please...I just don't want to let a good thing slip away._

She pushed her cot next to Max's, laid out upon it, pulled up a blanket, before reaching out, stroking Max's tousled bangs, brushing them away from her eyes. She held her breath for a few seconds studying the contours of the brunette's face, the curvature of her lips.

 _Oh God...you are hella gorgeous, Max._

The other girl gave a whimper, and then a startled cry, curling up further into a fetal ball. "What? Wh-who!?"

"Shhh...shh. S'okay. It's me Max. Just Chloe. Hi." she whispered out soothingly.

Max nodded, giving a pained, embarrassed smile. She shivered, until Chloe put a tentative arm around her.

"This...I mean, it's okay?"

Max relaxed visibly, and whispered back. "Yeah. It's good, Che. Really good."

Chloe laughed once. "Okay...well...good." She groaned and then continued. "So, I mean, just tell me if I'm doing anything that's making you uncomfortable, okay? I know our situation's...um...situation-y."

Max half-giggled, giving another shiver and snuggling close for warmth. "Really know how to turn a phrase."

"Yeah well, I'm just...this is really new territory, isn't it. For us? And it's not like we're in the best place right now to sit down and seriously contemplate the dynamics of our relationship. I mean, this is like living in some sort of fucked up postscript to a book. The climax came and went, the words stopped, the cover's closed. But all the characters are still inside, trying to live life and get through shit, after the world that they all knew completely ended. After...the readers already forgotten about them." She shook her head, experimentally nuzzling Max. Pleased to see her weakly returning the gesture of affection.

They laid close together for a few minutes, before Max whispered. "Chloe?"

"Yeah-huh?" Chloe answered sleepily.

"I...I need to get out of town, tomorrow. Just...I mean far enough to get a cell signal. My parents are probably going crazy right now, with worry."

"I'm sure the Red Cross or whatever people could get you a working satellite phone. No need to drive out all the way..."

"No!" Max covered her mouth, shocked at the volume of her frantic, fearful tone. "No...I mean. Oh God, Chloe...I can't stay in this town. Not right now. It's killing me. Every time I see...someone. Because..." Her lower lip trembled, as she fought to keep herself together. "They begged me, Chloe. In my dreams. Everyone begged me to save them! And I fucked it up. I fucked it up, and I can't stand it."

She reached up, grabbing at her head. "I can still hear them, Chloe. They're still begging me to save them, whenever I manage to fall asleep." With a pained grimace, she concluded, "I'm sorry, but I'm not strong enough right now. I need to get away from it. Just for a few hours. I can't be in the thick of it here, and stay sane."

 _Oh, God. Max. You've had to keep pushing, and giving, and surviving. You've been forced to be so strong, for so long. Please...let me..._

Chloe didn't miss a beat. "Fine. Yeah, that's good. Hell, we can leave now. Let's jump in the truck and hit the road."

Max shook her head. "N-no. Chloe...maybe I've spent more time today curled up in the corner and freaking out than I should've, but I see what's going on. You started this. You started all of it. Got people together, gave people just a little glimmer of hope, a little piece of order and stability."

"Oh Jesus, please. First off, it wasn't just me, not all alone, not singlehanded. There were other people around, decent people. Folks who have an idea of how to get through this kind of shit. Christ, you make me sound like...I know what the fuck I'm actually doing." Chloe snorted, glancing off to the side.

"Bullshit." Max rasped out. "You've gotten so good at lying about yourself, about not giving a damn, you've bought into your own hype. People need to see you here right now. If you run off, doesn't matter why, I think...people'll notice, Chloe. I can't say it makes sense, or it's fair, but people need to see that you're here. That you're surviving."

She curled up closer, and swallowed hard, "I've taken so much away from all of these people, Chloe! I can't...won't fuck them over any further. I swear, I'll be back. Just gotta...gotta call my folks. Get out of this town, just...a few...hours..."

"S'okay, Maxeroni. You gotta...gotta take care of you. Whatever you do, whatever you want, wherever you go. I'm as much or as little a part of it as you need. I mean..." Chloe started to laugh quietly. "After all the times you saved it, y-you do kinda own my ass now."

Max laughed against her chest, as the trembling subsided. "Ha..ha...yeah. I...I do...ha ha."

Chloe sighed, as sleep sucked Max down into its inviting warmth anew. She tilted her head up, glancing at the pure white stars, gleaming and crystal-pure, framed by the light of the moon. A mocking counterpoint to the clouds that obscured everything barely twenty-four hours earlier.

She cradled Max protectively; possessively. Part of her couldn't help but be afraid that what gossamer-thin bond that was growing between them threatened to snap if she let Max head off without her. Like the other girl might keep driving off towards the horizon, and never come back with her.

At the same time, she also feared that if she forced the issue, came along, whether Max wanted it or not, it also threatened to put a strain on the new dimension that their relationship was taking.

Not to mention that...

 _...fuck, Max! Are you serious? Do you really have a point? Does this fucking town, this shitburg that hated me the way I hated it actually care whether I stick around and help or not? Like it's somehow not going to recover if I don't stay? I mean, c'mon. No one has that much power. No one's a lynchpin like that..._

She looked over at Max, and rolled her eyes with considerable exaggeration. Considered the events of the past week.

 _Ooookay. Point retracted._

Well, if it was true that Chloe suddenly had a cross to bear, she was willing to bear it.

 _But...but not because I care about this place or something. Only because...because it's what I owe. Pound of flesh and everything. And it's what Max wants. Yeah, you hear that, Arcadia Bay? Don't think we're getting too chummy. This is mostly about doing it for her._

She let out a hard sigh, continued staring up at the sky for a while longer, wishing she'd fall asleep herself already. Crazy as today was, tomorrow was probably going to be worse.

 _Hell of a way to start the fucking weekend._

* * *

 ** _A/N:_** Hey guys...

So this was intended to be a one shot, but I've been coming up with so many ideas, I'm turning it into a short series. Like probably three to five chapters, taking our heroines out several decades into the future. I'm in that weird burning desire phase where I want to write and publish as quickly as possible, but I know that always impacts the quality...so it's a weird balancing act. Anyhow, it won't slow anything down with Black Swan, one way or the other.

Anyhow, not much to say, we all are dealing with the end of Life is Strange in our own ways *heh* Hope you enjoy this, please comment if you do.

BTW? Holy shit, but LiS ep5 really got the community reading! I'm sure other writers had a similar spike, but yesterday was probably a historical best in terms of views for me. You guys are all awesome!


	2. Chapter 2

It was a week - week and a half or so - before Max returned to Arcadia Bay.

Chloe didn't blame her for not immediately rushing back as soon as she made contact with her parents. Ryan and Vanessa were practically blind with panicked worry by the time their daughter let them know that she was still alive. They all but demanded she come home, afterwards.

And when Max did return to Seattle, they nearly convinced her to stay.

Chloe was relieved, of course, that Max came back. Came back to Arcadia Bay, but more importantly, came back to her. At the same time...

 _...I'd be lying if denied saying I fucking wish they'd chained you down to the bed..._

The mental image of that gave Chloe pause, prompted a blush...

 _...ahem. If they kept you away. From Arcadia Bay, from...me From everything we've done to you. You don't owe us anything Max. If anything...we should be throwing you a parade, and making every day Max Caulfield Is Absolutely Sexy Plus Awesome Day._

But she did come back. And Chloe's heart lept with absolute joy, all the same. The current status of their relationship was still not entirely sussed out, nor understood, but neither were in any rush it. No sudden declarations of undying love, no falling into bed, consumed with raging lust.

Chloe found it nice, honestly. Almost a relief. There were kisses, and cuddles, and hugs. Knowing giggles, googly eyes and more hand holding than she knew what to do with. But nothing else beyond that. Nothing past second base, at least. Like there wasn't any pressure to take it further, because God knows there was so much more to be doing.

Every day she went out, looking for a job to be a part of, a way to help out. Something to volunteer for. Didn't matter what; no matter how 'beneath her' she might have initially thought it to be, no matter how dirty, or petty, or repetitive, she was there. Setting up shelters, clearing rubble, telling stories and giving comfort and piggyback rides to the kids.

Especially the ones who lost a parent.

Or both of them.

But there were reasons to celebrate, certainly. Kate Marsh was alive and safe, for starters. Her parents picked her up on Thursday evening, and they were gone before the weather turned dangerous.

 _Fucking right on, Bible Girl, for turning around, demanding your folks bring you back to town so you can help with the recovery. You rock!_

And Victoria Chase stayed in town, too. Chloe unkindly assumed she was going to take off, shout "Fuck you very much, Arcadia Bay!" and run off to the next great chapter of her fabulous little life. But no.

She stayed as well.

God knows she didn't have to, but she and Max had their own little recovery clique going on. It made Chloe jealous sometimes, feel powerless on more than one occasion, that there were ways in which Victoria was able to support her, share empathy, that Chloe couldn't. Both of them suffered at the hands of Mark Jefferson. Both of the grieved, in their own separate ways for Nathan Prescott; for Victoria, Nathan was a complicated, misunderstood fragile soul, a man-child manipulated unfairly by forces far greater than himself. More than that, he was a friend. With Max, he was the antagonist turned misunderstood victim, who gave a heartbreaking apology in his last and darkest hour.

Now he'd never have a chance to redeem himself for his crimes.

Forgiveness did not come so easily for Chloe...

 _Boo hoo hoo! Rich Asshole is still Rich Asshole. Guy almost punched my ticket in the school bathroom. Guy_ did _drug and try to rape me...I mean, I did kinda put myself in a bad situation, going with him to his room, trying to shake him down, but FUCK YOU, ASSHOLE! Kate Marsh didn't ask for any of that shit though, and there's that on his head as well. But above all else..._

 _...he killed Rachel!_

But...

 _He's never gonna get a chance to make amends. Guy like that, probably'd look at me, and think I had the biggest, brightest gift in the whole fucking world. I get the chance to clean up the mess I made. Funny, the shit you appreciate. All a matter of perspective._

Still, by and large, the days cost Max. Each and every one of them depleting what few precious mental reserves she possessed, barely recharged after her temporary sojourn to Seattle. For every joyful, tear-filled reunion or shared renewal of strength with Kate and Victoria, for every report that Joyce, despite losing the use of her legs, was otherwise going to make a full recovery, for every serendipitous discovery that Pompidou was still alive, and actually behaving himself while he patiently waited for his master, there was an equal, if not excessive measure of defeats.

Warren was still in a coma, one he might never wake up from. But at least he still had a chance. That was more than could be said for Justin and Brooke, Dana, and Zach.

Chloe desperately tried to keep Max from going to see all the bodies, carefully extracted from the rubble, then laid out on tarps as they were prepared for family identification and eventual burial. Tried to convince her to stay away from the daily tally lists at the edge of the temporary housing camp, the ones that were updated with confirmed fatalities

But every day she would go and stare at them. Torment herself. Burn each and every name into her mind, as the column of "missing" shrunk, and "dead" grew.

One day, it was too much for her. She lost it, completely and totally, out in public. Fell to her knees, and started to shriek hysterically about how it was all her fault.

The next month after that was pure hell. Max couldn't be trusted to left alone on her own, that much was certain. Chloe, Kate and Victoria all took turns staying with her. Even David. They all told themselves it was just about comfort and support, taking care of family and community.

Chloe knew the truth, even if no one else wanted to say it.

 _It was a deathwatch! We...oh God Max, you think I'm important? How do you think we'd all feel if you...YOU of all people, finally gave up hope? Gave in? You call me a lynchpin..._

Every day, when Chloe wasn't out there, somehow helping to rebuild, she was with Max, giving her whatever she needed. Letting her run around and around in emotional circles, or rest her head on a lap, while she stared off into space for hours. And every minute that Chloe that apart from her, she pushed down the burning, acrid fear that when she made it back to the FEMA trailer they shared...that would be the day she found out that Max finally ended it all.

But they managed to stabilize Max, help see her past the worst of it. There were social workers, and they had trained, precision words. And prescription drugs. And Chloe worked through the black market that had grown in the area, using it to get her weed, at least until the medical card came through.

Each night, when they went to bed, she'd hold Max close against her, spooning her tight, and whisper against her ear. "Gonna get through this, babe. You just see. Every day, it gets closer. Day we get through this."

There were even some nights Chloe actually believed the words, herself.

* * *

 **2014**

Chloe clenched her jaw tightly, working it back and forth as she slowly stalked back towards the trailer. It'd been months now, and construction and rebuilding were still sporadic at best, as relief funds were tied up in red tape. On top of evetythinf else, the Prescott family recently pulled out in the wake of the devastation and scandal.

As far as Chloe was concerned, it was the best damn thing to come out of the storm, but she was one of the few who saw it that way. Love them or hate them, the Prescotts had money. Power. Roots deep in the tarry heart of the old town, and their up and abandoning Arcadia Bay to pursue greener pastures elsewhere demoralized many of the townspeople still left alive.

She stomped through the late winter snows, a flyer all but crumbled in her angry fist. She couldn't even bring herself to read it again, but at the same time she couldn't bear to part with it. There was an old saying, that holding onto anger was like hanging on to a burning coal.

 _...probably a good point. But what happens if you're a sick bitch who kind of likes the pain, huh?_

Still, she'd managed to keep busy. Found a temp job with one of the construction crews. Able to give as well as she took, what with the macho assholes and their swagger, she eventually earned their grudging respect after a few weeks. Maybe she didn't have the muscles - although God knows she was putting them on now! - or the physical endurance, but she had the spirit. The spit and piss. The gave her credit for that much.

She'd never tell anyone, but she was starting to believe that aside from the Prescott's withdraw, the storm itself was also the best thing to happen to Arcadia Bay.

 _Scourge the filth, tear down the decay, build it all up, bright, shiny and new. The right way, this time. Ha! Shit...look at me...I sound like one of those crazy apocalypse freaks, talking how the storm was God's wrath._

Finally, she made it to the trailer she shared with Max, David, and her Mom. Smashing the snow off her boots, she carefully unlaced them, put them on the matt to the side. Groaned softly and rubbed her back.

 _Goddamn...another twelve hours without a real break. Man, work fucking sucks! But at least now I know what the hell I'm talking about. I know a lot better than the rich bitches from Blackwell. Funny thing, how that's the big project they got us working on. Housing, stores, library, yeah, whatever, but the rich prep school, YUP! That gets priority. Jesus fuck..._

"Hey," Chloe called out, in a tired voice. "I'm home. Wee."

"Welcome back, darlin'!" her Mom called out. She'd only just been discharged from the hospital a couple weeks earlier. Confined to a wheelchair, probably for life, but at least the rest of her body worked fine, above the waist. Wasn't letting it get her down any. She kept swearing blind that she was going to return to waitressing once the Two Whales was rebuilt.

 _Shades of...that other Chloe. The one Max told me about. God Above, you have a sick sense of humor sometimes!_

Chloe leaned in to plant a tender kiss on the top of her mother's head, before she held out a tired, lightly shaking fist. "Hey Big D." she whispered to David. He returned the fist bump, smiled softly and nodded. "Hey Little C."

Their relationship had vastly improved since the storm; it was a way more buddy-buddy than father-daughter, but Chloe had to give credit where credit was due. He came through. He led the cops, helped take down Jefferson. Rescued Victoria, Brought justice for Rachel. For all of that alone, she'd be eternally grateful.

But he kept on giving, kept on doing better.

 _And I was so certain you were gonna be a fucking disappointment..._

She figured it was just a matter of time before the anger returned in full, the boiling alienation. The traumas he'd not been able to leave behind on the battlefield. If life, when quiet and peaceful, tested David Madsen and found him wanting, then surely the weight of adversity in post-Tornado Arcadia Bay would drag him down completely.

Right?

But the opposite happened. Oh sure, it helped, it helped a lot that he took advantage of the same councilors and social service workers that Max did. Attended anger management meetings, helped lead survivors groups. But as she got to know him, really, truly know him, she saw it was always about control. Or rather, the feeling that he had control over his life.

 _Or maybe realizing how much control is really just an illusion, and you have to accept you can only deal with what you can deal with? Agh...damn, I'm not a philosopher..._

But helping to rebuild, joining the local watches, spending those first early days keeping looting down to a bare minimum...it gave him that sense of control. Of confidence. Inculcated a nascent ability at long last, for working in a team. The ability that he'd otherwise lacked his entire life up to this point.

 _Gotta hand it to you, David. You done did good. Heh...who the fuck thought we'd actually kinda sorta start getting along?_

"Chloe...sit. Eat. Now. I know it's not much, but at least it's hot, and lord knows you're thin as a rail." Joyce commanded.

Chloe snorted, and murmured, "Yes'm." her lips curling in a devilish smile. She plopped down on the folding chair, removing her beanie. Her hair was growing out, and without ready access to blue dye, blond roots were showing. She kept meaning to cut it, maybe even shave it all off entirely, but when the hell did she have the time?

She furiously attacked the tuna noodle casserole that was laid out before her. As she ate, David pipped up.

"So uh...Chloe. Saw you working today, as I was passing by Blackwell. I waved and called out, but I don't think you heard me."

"Mmmmph? Oh...s'at youf? S'ought ah herd muh naym." She paused, chewing hard through the oversized mouthful, washing it down with a large gulp of water. "Sorry. Yeah, they started putting me on rivet detail. Fuckers are loud, and..." she shook out her aching hands. "Anyhow. Yeah, sorry. Woulda waved back, if I knew it was you."

He chuckled. "I know...I know. Just...proud of you. You know that? I know you don't need to hear it from me but...you're really something, Chloe. I know it's still new, you and me getting along like this, but I just wanted to say...uh...it's pretty damn great and..." He rubbed the back of his head, blushing.

She leaned in, resting her head on his shoulder for just a few seconds. "Yeah. It is. Weird, but...nice. But...but don't go thinking I've gone fucking soft." She rose up, smirked wryly, and viciously stabbed another piece of food. "Believe me, soon as things get back to normal, really normal, I'm immediately returning to my previously selfish and irredeemably childish ways. After all...I'm still Chloe Price. Got an image to uphold."

She then glanced over at a copy of the flyer on the table, another copy of the one she was still holding in her other hand.

"Assuming anything _ever_ goes back to normal again. Shit, I see you guys got the notice too, huh?"

David nodded grimly. "Can't believe they'd even think about doing it."

Joyce captured her lower lip between her teeth, worrying at it before speaking, "People are just...just feeling vulnerable. Scared. They've had one blow after the other, and after the Prescotts left...of course they're rattled. It'll work out though. Too much blood and history for people to just give up. You'll see. People understand what's at stake."

She paused for a few seconds, and then gave Chloe and David a meaningful look. "Might understand more with a couple of extra friendly faces in the audience showing their support."

"Uuuugh." Chloe murmured, giving a heavy, dramatic roll of her eyes. "Making the epic flaw of assuming I'm a friendly face, Mom." She quickly scarfed down her remaining dinner, and started to open her mouth to say something. Thought better of it and then held up a hand, pointing over to the other half of the trailer, the one partitioned off with a curtain. Then pantomimed hugging herself and smiled as she swallowed hard.

Chloe pushed the curtain aside, just enough for her to pass across, and then pulled it back behind her. The room was completely unlit, save for the soft glow emanating from a tablet perched on Max's chest, as she did what she did most days and nights now: binge watch TV.

 _Thank God the Federal Government declared wifi a basic human right or something..._

The brunette was stretched out on the ratty sofa that dominated the tiny slice that could be laughingly called the living room of the section of trailer they shared together.

Max herself had seen better days. Her eyes were gaunt, sunken in, hair longer now, but slightly unkempt at all times. She wasn't eating much, sleeping less, and it showed. While not dangerously emaciated, she was never plump to begin with; these days Chloe worried a hug would snap her in half.

But despite it all, Max still lit up when her gaze traveled up and beheld the blonde-blunette. That light in her eyes might be a guttering, sparking ember, but seeing it always put a spring in Chloe's step. Gave her hope, made every little thing she put up with in life right now worthwhile.

Slowly, achingly, she lowered herself onto the couch as Max's legs retracted to give her space. Turned, smirked like everything was just fine, and said, "Hey babe. How it go today? It - ah. DId it work out? Helping with the daycare and stuff?"

Chloe knew the answer, even before the question left her lips. Still, it seemed cold not to ask, and she always hoped against hope that today would be the day she'd be surprised. That Max would turn the corner.

"N-no. I - um." Max hugged the tablet to her chest, bowed her head. "Tried, Chloe. I promise. I did. I thought it would be easier, you know? With just kids. Just the kids, not the adults. And it was...was working out. Maybe? I think...for an hour or two. But some of those kids don't have a Mommy, or a Daddy anymore...or sisters or brothers or aunts or uncles or..."

She gave a sharp, singular sniff. "Too much, Chloe. Was too much. What was I supposed to say to them?" She shook her head sharply, covered her face with her hands, choking back another sob.

Chloe tried to gloss over things as painlessly as possible. "S'okay, sweetie. It's...okay. Uhhh...just...please don't..."

They'd been through this a thousand times before. Chloe would beg her not to blame herself. That it wasn't her fault. They both understood what was at stake, both embraced, however reluctantly, the ultimate sacrifice that needed to be made.

 _Not your fault the wind ripped the picture away. And then you lost your powers. I mean...what the fuck, right? Maybe we just need to accept that Arcadia Bay was always doomed, no matter what. Otherwise, why give you powers, and then take them away. Right as you try and stop the storm, they go byebye. Doesn't seem like a coincidence to me._

She'd never actually say it to her, not in those exact words. She wasn't an absolute moron. And she'd never tell anyone else, but Chloe was becoming perversely attached to the notion that reducing Arcadia Bay to rubble had its upsides as well. A way to sweep the board clean, build it fresh, build it right.

 _I'm a fucking horrible human being. And these are the kind of horrible human being thoughts you never tell anyone else you're having._

"So -uh. Whatcha watching, Max?" Chloe inquired. She knew the other girl would be eager to switch to safer topics.

The tablet was passed over, and her eyes went wide with realization. "Doctor Who? This is Doctor Who, right? Uhhh..errrr." She laughed nervously. "Strikes a little close to home, doesn't it?"

Max shrugged, and gave a half-hearted laugh. "The shrink, he...he called it something like...phobia confrontation or..or something. Desensitization? I mean, I can't...can't talk to him about all, or even most of my issues, so I - I guess I'm taking his ideas and applying them?"

"Oh yeah? Is it...ah...z'it working?"

The other girl reached out, retrieving a fresh joint from her prescription case, and placed her lips around it, muttering. "Does when I watch it while smoking weed. But...it might just be the weed, I guess." The Zippo lighter, retrieved from the nearby wire spool that served as a makeshift coffee table, quickly lit up. Taking a long, needful drag, she then shyly reached out, pulling Chloe close, kissing her, and shotgunning the smoke into her lungs.

As much as Chloe completely loved that sort of thing, the kiss was still an awkward one. Their relationship seemed to be stuck in amber. They weren't willing to give up on a romance, but neither of them were sure how to proceed, take it to the next level. Max was riddled with guilt and insecurity, the likes of which Chloe never witnessed before. In her darker moments, Max outright said that she was was keeping herself distant because she was afraid...

" _...if I get any closer to you...you're gonna see what a fraud I am, Che! I'm not that brave hero you thought I was. I...I don't remember how to_ be _her. Can't figure out how I was that strong in the first place. I'm...not worthy. Just gonna drag you down, Chloe. Right when you're finally rising up...just gonna drag you down."_

Chloe wouldn't believe a word of it herself, did her best to keep Max from doing likewise. She treated Max like a princess, like the most precious person in her small little world. It was easy, because it was true. Cultivating patience became an effortless thing...at least when it came to her darling photo nerd. Everything else in the world though, she was still a pretty unrepentant bitch about.

Well...maybe not everything.

"Mayyybe..." Chloe started. "If we combined it with one of my awesome-sauce foot rubs." She reached over, grabbing Max's feet and plopping them into her lap. It got a rare warm smile from the brunette, who took another few puffs, and shyly whispered. "Not gonna say no."

Max's feet were pretty, just like her. Well, Max wasn't merely pretty, not in Chloe's eyes, but feet couldn't be gorgeous. It was just one of those unwritten rules of the universe. They could be cute, they could be pretty. They could even be sexy...

 _...you know, if that's your thing. Not judging._

But gorgeous? No.

Max visibly relaxed. Chloe wanted to believe it was more than just the drugs that were responsible.

"Mmmmmm. Needed this. Th-thank you. Che." Max said. The expression on her face was half-embarrassed, half-weepy. She clearly wanted to enjoy the contact more, but there was still that same barrier between the two of them. The critical self-judgement, the feelings of unworthiness.

Chloe said nothing at first, simply got to work, ignoring the throbbing ache already roiling up and down her fingers.

Another minute, and Max inquired. "I hear you talking with your Mom and David about...special town meeting tonight? What's up with that?"

Chloe groaned low in the back of her throat, slowly shook her head as she focused on the arch of Max's soles. "Yeah. Sean Prescott pulls up the tent-stakes, says "Fuck ya later, Arcadia Bay!" and now everyone's worried the tax base is gonna collapse if folks get scared and bail, chasing after their former lord and master. Won't be enough money to make rebuilding worthwhile, starts a vicious cycle. So I guess folks are talking about just cutting to the chase, disincorporating the town and letting Lincoln County run the whole damn show as an unincorporated village. You know. All for the sake of fucking Blackwell, assuming they decide to keep going, too. If not, then I guess the only thing Arcadia Bay'll be doing is generating hipster tumbleweeds...or something."

Max blinked. Looking up at the grey and dingy ceiling, she finished off the rest of the joint, and breathed out slowly, speaking in a hazy, distant tone. "That's...God. Fucking awful. People just...giving up like that. After everything they've been doing to try and pull the town together." She propped herself up on her elbows. "After...everything _you've_ been doing, Chloe."

Chloe grunted. "Oh come on, you make it sound like a goddamn personal affront. People are people. Yeah, maybe there are some good ones, and maybe for a little while, people can not be so amazingly horrible, but by and large? They suck shit so hard. So, Fucking, Hard."

A small portion of that old Caulfield intensity reached Max's eyes. She pulled her feet from Chloe's lap, took her hand, and looked straight at her. "I...I'd go. I'd go, and I'd tell them...that they can't! That...Chloe. Chloe!" Tears started to splash down her cheeks.

She clung to Chloe's side. "If they leave...that's it. Arcadia Bay is dead...and I...I killed it. I killed it!" She wiped her eyes quickly, and got up to her feet, pacing with agitation. "I'd go...I'd go, I would. But I...can't. Can't go, Chloe. Not with all those people around. Just can't. I don't want to ask you but...maybe? You?"

Taking a long, deep, cleansing breath, Chloe rose up. Reached out, stroked Max's face, brushing away a few more fresh tears with her thumb. Gave her a gentle headbutt and whispered. "Move me onto any black square. Use me any time you want."

Max gave a choked, wet laugh, and in a shuddering voice, stated, "Don't even know what that means, Che."

"Means I'm yours to command as you please, M'lady." Chloe reached up, kissing Max's hand gallantly. "That, and it's an old Yes song lyric. Not my usual style, but..."

"Ha...ha ha ha!" Max laughed, equal parts disconsolate and happy. "To-to-totally sound like your Dad, just then. Like William."

Chloe bowed her head, but smiled all the same. Waited a few seconds before asking.

"This is super important to you, isn't it?"

Max could only nod in silence.

"Go. Sit. Curl back up with Doctor Who. It's one of the Billie Piper episodes, and I know I'd be staring at her all day if I could, too." Chloe gave a wink and leaned in to kiss her, a kiss Max gratefully accepted.

"Tell my Mom there's bail money in the cookie jar, just in case."

Max all but jumped onto her, arms and legs clinging around her tight. "Th-th-thank youuu. Oh God Chloe, Thank you..."

Chloe lingered for a few minutes more, cuddling Max in her lap, making sure she was calming down, that she was going to be okay, before finally leaving Max to...whatever few things in life Max still found some comfort in. She wasn't going to begrudge her a damn thing.

Really, it was good to see her actually showing passion about something, after so long. Some spirit, fight. Chloe was more than happy to be her knight champion. That was easy. It was a god damn pleasure and a privilege.

 _I mean...Jesus, I don't care that much about it. I'm just doing this for her. Fuckhead loser hick white trash assholes...just wanna quit. Go and quit and run away. Run away! Fine! After all we were starting to do here. After we came together, and made something, took care of each other. Maybe found some hope, maybe found a new path to go down. Rebuild ourselves into something more than the fucking joke of a ghost town we were before. The Prescott's personal plaything._

Chloe rose up, suppressing the soft, vicious snarl building in her throat. Made sure to hide her venomous expression from Max.

 _I don't care! I don't...I'm not their Mommy! I can't carry all of them on my back. I mean sure! Who cares, I just spent like twelve hours a day, every day, for like five months, doing nothing but working to get this town back on its feet. Who cares that Max and I tried to save them, continue to try, each and every fucking day! Who gives one rats ass that they're just taking this one last chance to reach for the stars, and they're throwing it away, and..._

She turned to the filthy, ancient mirror stuck to the wall, Something she fished out of American Rust a few weeks back.

Stared hard, and made a startling realization.

" _Fuck! Maybe I do. Damnit!"_

With grim determination, Chloe stuck her skater beanie back on her head and pulled down hard. Strode out into the kitchen with an exaggerated swagger, and started to walk past the table. Playfully swatting David on the back of the head, she murmured, "C'mon Big D. Time for us to boldly ride."

David glared at her at first, reactively. An instinctive, angry snarl that quickly morphed into a smirk, and then an understanding nod.

"Chloe?" Joyce asked, tilting her head quizzically.

"Off to the meeting, Mom. Don't wait up. If these dickheads wanna rage-quit, fine by me. But they're not gonna do it without a Chloe-bomb getting dropped on their fool heads first."

Joyce laughed, despite herself. "Chloe Price, what does any of that even mean?"

She glanced back over her shoulder, nodding again to David, who already had his jacket on, grabbing the keys to the truck. Turning back, Chloe answered, "No clue. Sounds good though, right? All I know is maybe I still hate this shitburg excuse for a fishing village stuck in yestersuck, but damnit, people I love seem to think it's worth fighting for. Community pride by proxy'll just have to do."

She and David strode out the door and into the night.

* * *

 **A/N:** Hi kids!

Thanks for your support thus far! And to think, I originally planned on this being less than 10K altogether! So yeah, that's obviously not happening.

Also, by the way? How the hell did people research shit before the Internet? I mean...technically, I know the answer to that question because I went to library school, but SERIOUSLY? How did they stand it? I make mention of this because of how easy it is to look up things now, like disincorporation. We really take for granted how easy it is to acquire minutia on this day and age.

Btw, I meant to mention this in Chapter 1, but this series is more or less dedicated to **RED78910**. From day one, he was hardcore into the notion that Arcadia Bay was always meant to be destroyed. That this would be its and kindest fate. I kind of busted his chops a little bit for that, but he got to turn right back around and bust on mine after Ep 5. Because I am totally on board with that notion now, and I guess this series is my way of exploring that concept.

Have a great weekend, folks!


	3. Chapter 3

Chloe and David were a sight to see as they strode into the quonset hut that served as Town Hall, at least until a new, permanent structure could be built. They were practically mirror images of each other: their jaws fixed in grim determination, frowns lightly creasing their brows, hands stuffed into their pockets. It was clear to any who might have taken note of their entrance that they were a pair on a mission.

Tonight's event was being held as an open forum of the remaining citizens of Arcadia Bay. At present, the town operated in an open meeting modality of government, as the majority of the Aldermen that made up the town council were now dead. It was decided that the issue of disincorporation should be put up to a plebiscite in three weeks time; certainly, there was no point in trying to reconstitute the old government if there was no more Arcadia Bay for them to run.

A podium and PA system were set up. Any and all comers were allowed to step up and speak, although only registered voters would be allowed to have a say in the Bay's ultimate fate next month.

Chloe signed her name with a flourish on the sheet, and offered the pen to David. He smirked, and then shook his head once.

"Something tells me I don't want to try and follow your act, Chloe."

Her lips twitched, morphing slowly from a sour grimace of impatience to impish amusement. She rocked back and forth on her heels, closed her eyes, and waited for her turn to speak. Trying her best to keep her emotions in check as she heard the heartfelt appeals from both sides.

"Too much history in this town to..."

"We need to accept the reality of the situation...without the Prescotts..."

"How can we possibly think of staying here?"

"God has made it clear that we've lost his favor!"

"...been my home for fifty years. Don't want Lincoln County riding up and telling me how to live my life, damnit."

"Yes, it's a crisis, but we need to see the opportunity..."

"You can all stay if you want, but once I get my insurance money, I never want to see Arcadia Bay again!"

Chloe couldn't decide whether the fact that opinion was split nearly down the middle was a comfort or a curse. But it certainly felt like the situation was balanced on on the sharp, slim edge of a knife. A slight shift in the wind or ripple in the current, and it would be all over.

 _The single flap of a butterfly's wings. Huh. Yeah. No pressure there, it's all just on you, Chloe._

She paused, then shook her head angrily.

 _No. Fuck that noise. I won't put this all on my shoulders. I'm just gonna go up and say my peace, and then that's it. Fuckers gotta take responsibility for themselves. I'm just one woman, and hell..I'm not even all that liked or popular. I should probably tell people to tear the town down, because they'd all go in the other direction, just to fuck with me. Reverse psychology. Because who wants to take Chloe Price's advice, right? Whether this place goes to dirt, or manages to hang on...it's not my fault. Or my victory._

She was just one person.

But she could just imagine what Max would tell her, if she were here right now.

" _I'm sure every little drop of rain refuses to take responsibility for the flood, Che..."_

"Next up, is...ah...Chloe Price?" The moderator called her name out.

She slowly strode up to the podium, which was set in such a way that she'd be directly addressing the assembled crowd. For all intents and purposes, she was going to be speaking to the whole of Arcadia Bay's current government. She reached up, taking the time to remove her skater beanie and shove it in her hoodie pocket. Slowly moved her hands to grab the sides of the lectern, then leaned in.

"Chloe Price. The hole in the ground that _was_ 44 Cedar Avenue." she began, playfully mocking the standard practice of a citizen announcing themselves by name and address. "So let me just start off by saying that some of you know me already..."

A few people clapped. One or two called out her name, mostly people from the diner, or the construction crew.

She groaned, gave a weak smile despite herself. "No, no guys. Shut up, really, you're going to ruin the point I'm about to make." Shook her head, and tried to recompose her face into a more aggressive facade. "My point being that for the last few years, we haven't been on what you'd call good terms. Me and Arcadia Bay that is."

She paused for effect, then continued "No, actually...let's be brutally honest, we kinda just fucking hated each other." She pointed down hard against the lectern with her middle and forefinger to emphasize her point. "Shit, I've actually enjoyed being the _enfant terrible_ of Arcadia Bay up 'til now."

Chloe gauged the rather blank expressions on people's faces and groaned internally

 _Don't be so surprised I've read a fucking book, people. I_ was _a straight-A student, once upon a time._

"I mean, damn, I see you over there, Officer Berry. Y-you probably arrested my ass more times than you can count. And...and Principal...Wells?"

She slowed for a moment, her voice almost cracking. She hadn't realized that Ray Wells managed to survive, though he leaned heavily on a cane, his leg still in a full cast.

She shook her head, gave a clipped laugh. "Probably broke out the really good shit and partied hard, the day you kicked me outta Black-hell. Am I right?" Wells shook his head softly, but was unable to suppress a small smile, all the same.

A low chuckle rippled through the audience; in days past, they might not have been so kind, but it was clear that over the past few months, Chloe managed to earned at least some small measure of currency with more than a few people, who now appreciated her frank opening.

Still, they were obviously starting to wonder where she was going with her speech.

"So why am I starting off with all this? Why am I reminding you how much you all hated my ass? So that when I say what I'm about to tell you next, you appreciate the ironic context. How deadly serious I'm being, and what it means to me."

Reaching out, she grabbed the microphone, sliding it out of the holder. Fortunately, it was wireless, allowing her full freedom of movement. Taking a deep breath, she licked her lips, and looked out at everyone in the audience.

 _Well Chloe, time to screw your courage to the sticking place..._

"Are we all out of our FUCKING minds, here?!" she demanded to know. She emphasized the second to last word, tapping hard at the middle of her forehead with two fingers.

"No, really." she continued. "It's a serious medical question. Did we all go clinically insane?! 'Cause that what it seems like, when we're at the point where we're seriously thinking about tearing down the town, retreating into ourselves, becoming some little backwater that's so small and scared, it can't even run itself anymore.

Some in the audience were clearly shocked. There was a faint murmur rising, but no one tried to stop Chloe as she continued with her rant.

"I mean, God damn! Where do I even begin? I know we've all been damaged by this storm. Some of us lost family, some of us lost homes, a lot of us even lost our lives, but _everyone_ in this town has something in common now: we got eff'ed in the A by that tornado. For once in history, everyone in Arcadia Bay is equal: equally dicked over."

She then snorted. "Except...except maybe Sean Prescott. You know, the guy whose family has run this town for decades? The guy who, by the way? Was bankrolling the activities of his twisted, rapist, murdering son, and the psychopath school teacher giving his son murder lessons."

She felt only a slight twinge when she noticed Wells turning his face away from her.

She held up a hand to still some of the groans and catcalls, "Yeah, yeah, yeah, he's got the gold, so he got to make the rules. Fuck that, now! He had the same responsibility we do now. But none of _us_ got the opportunity to run off with sack-fulls of cash and rebuild elsewhere. If Arcadia Bay means so much to him and his family, why is he abandoning us? Huh? Why? And better yet, why did we ever think we _needed_ him?!"

Chloe was animated now, stepping up in front of the podium, thrusting out with a fist or jabbing with a finger to emphasize her points. "This town got absolutely flattened, people! Turned into a fucking pancake! I saw it happen. Up on high. Tornado was like the size of all of downtown. But you know what? In all the terror and tragedy and death and hunger and fear...I finally saw something. Something...miraculous." She swallowed hard, trying to steady her hands. She barely could keep control, the words seeming to spill out of her mouth on their own accord.

"I saw a whole town of people I hated - hated because I thought they'd given up after all these years, just kept takings their beatings like good little doggies - I saw them rise up. Come together. Saw them remember that we're _all_ a community, and that you can only push us so far until we rise up and shout 'ENOUGH!'."

The pacing helped. Helped to keep her focused, helped to burn off the nervous, frightened energy coursing through her veins. "On that day, right after the storm kicked us in the teeth, I saw everyone put aside stupid old grudges, and shitty, petty arguments, and stop caring about who said what, or who did this, or who has more, and who has less. We rose up, to be something better, something more than the sum of our parts! People shared what they had! People who could do, did. Didn't matter what, but everyone gave something! I see so many faces here, and I remember what a lot of you did. Are still doing."

She jabbed a finger out into the audience. "Jeff Stevens, I see you all the time at the construction site, and I hate you. Know why? Because you work so hard each and every day, I feel like I can't take off at the end of the shift until you do." She laughed nervously at this.

She then walked up, facing an older woman in her sixties. "Mrs. Dixon. You're like the only damn Mormon in town, so of course you kept five years worth of food in your basement or something, I don't know, some crazy amount. And everyone here, me included, has had at least some of it. Doesn't taste nearly as bad as you think...pretty damn good actually, when you're starving, but it's not as sweet as you've been, insisting everybody help themselves."

"And...and..." Chloe paused. She could keep going like this all night..maybe. And maybe they'd let her have more than the three minutes she was allotted. But she knew she had to wrap it up, before she started to ramble, started to lose the whole cohesive thread of her point.

Her voice rose up. "I've seen how amazing this town _can_ be! I've seen what it can do when pushed to the absolute brink! Now...now yeah. Yeah, we're in a bad spot, still. I can't promise...I won't promise, that we'll win for sure. Because even if we try and we fight and we scrape, we might still fade away, and then end up having to dissolve the town in a few years anyhow. But I can promise you, beyond the shadow of a doubt, that if we just give up now...then we really are a fucking pack of losers! Giving up, that's the only way that tornado can win!"

She paused, letting the notion sink in. " And...and how the hell...?" her voice was raw, jagged, almost shrill with emotion. "If we call it quits, how can we look at everyone who's had something taken from them by the storm...the people with physical injuries, the people who carry all their scars inside, the people who...who've had to bury far too many of their family? What do we say to the the people who weren't fortunate...or maybe unfortunate enough...to survive to see this day? What do we say to them? Really, 'cause I wanna know. We tell them it was too hard? That we just gave up, and ran away? Oh sorry, we made it to the cusp, where maybe we could rebuild this place right, make it into something small, but great, but we just couldn't rise up to the challenge when shit got real?"

Chloe held onto the mike with both hands now, almost as if clasped in prayer. "Well...well fuck you all, if you walk away now! I've pounded too many nails into too many boards...driven rivets into way too many beams, and and...buried too many good people to even think about quitting now. Because...even...even if I gotta pick up a hammer and finish rebuilding the rest of the town myself, I will. You can all walk out in the end, but you'll have to drag Chloe Price out, kicking and screaming when you do!"

Her chest heaved, as she breathed hard through her nose. Appraised the audience with a face etched with both mocking glare and inspirational challenge.

"For the first time in our lives, we actually get a say. We get to write our chapter in this town's history. It's a choice between 'The End' and 'To Be Continued.' I know damn well what I fucking want it to be. And It should be glaringly obvious what we all do, when the time comes to vote next month."

On a sudden whim, she concluded with, "So...so peace out, yo." Then held out the mike, tilted her hand to the side, and dropped it to the ground, before spinning on one heel, and making her way towards the exit.

As she did, she caught David's hand held up, in the corner of her eye, and smacked it hard in a high caught her though, and pulled her into a tight hug. Despite her best efforts, a few sobs escaped her throat.

"Toldja, Little C. Toldja." he whispered to her, before letting her go.

The stunned silence slowly gave way, with every step that Chloe took, like ice melting inexorably in the heat of the springtime sun. It started with a few claps, peppered with some whoops and hollers. By the time she finally closed the door behind her, the noise was thunderous, deafening, echoing in her ears.

Chloe felt like throwing up...but at the same time, it was pretty fucking excellent, too

 _Oh...oh Jesus. Was that me? Swear, I feel like I snorted a rail of meth or something, fuck...look at me shaking still. Crazy...just fucking..._

"...crazy bitch." Someone softly called, once Chloe made it ten steps out of the hut.

She stopped short, turned her head to the side and appraised the man calling out to her.

It was Frank.

Sitting on a on a stack of milk crates.

He looked like shit. Clearly lost weight while in the hospital. He was thin and gaunt, more than Chloe thought possible. His clothes hung loosely off his rack of a body, or rather, what was left of it. She hadn't seen him since he was airlifted, but Joyce and he were in physical therapy sessions together for a week or two before they were let out of the hospital. She'd told Chloe about how gangrene set into his hand and one of his legs, necessitating their removal. The new hand was a surprisingly functional-looking replacement, despite its creepy aesthetic; little more than boney metal fingers and cushioned joints. The prosthetic leg was one of the ball and shaft models that she'd seen in pictures of too many soldiers coming back from the Middle East.

She turned the rest of her body and walked towards him. "Hey Frank. Can't believe I'm gonna say this, but I'm actually kinda glad to see you. You know...you still suck, but you're a familiar face...and that counts enough for now."

He shook his head and grunted, reaching down to scrub Pompidou affectionately along the scruff of his neck. "Hmmmph. Didn't get a chance before, to thank you for helping to look after my dog. Making sure he ate, didn't turn into someone else's dinner. And yeah...hi."

There was a pregnant, uncomfortable pause, before Chloe spoke again. "Sorry. You know, about the - ah...cyborg shit. Not like we're really friends, but that still doesn't mean I wanted you to actually lose pieces of your body. So, yeah. Sorry."

He laughed bitterly. "I'm not. Yeah, I look like I'm only the six dollar man, but I'm still alive. And now I'm on disability...not that I want to spend my whole life sitting on my ass and collecting pay like I'm some helpless freak, but at least it gives me time to think about what to do with my life."

He raised the metal hand up, glancing over it with unfocused eyes as the fingers slowly jerked about, clearly still not fully coordinated with it. "And God knows I've spent a lot of time thinking about what I've been doing with my life up 'til now."

Chloe winced and bowed her head a couple inches. Pulled out a box of cigarettes, and handing one over. He waved it off. "Thanks. But I quit." He turned his full gaze over to her. "So I gotta hand it to you, you really gave those dickshits an ear full. And seems like they were grateful to have you spank their asses, too."

Chloe lit up one of the cigarettes for herself, took a drag, and let the smoke bleed out past her lips, mixing with clouds of warm, condensed breath in the cold night air. "Ah geezus. You heard that shit?" she asked in dismay.

"Heard it? I think they fucking heard you out in Portland, way you were screaming out of that PA system." He chuckled, and patted her leg with surprising gentleness and respect. "Hell of a thing. And I'll deny ever saying it, but I'm glad you stood up for this town. Hate to leave...hate to see it just go down the fucking drain, way it looked like it was going to."

"Huh. I thought you hated this circle of hell more than I did."

He shrugged noncommittally. "It's home. I got along, in my own way. There's a lot of beauty here. I had a niche. A shitty, fucked up niche...but it was mine, damnit!" He stared up at the sky, groaning as he tried to lean back a bit. "Rachel...I'm man enough to admit it. She'd be...she'd be proud, Chloe. She'd be proud of you. I know it. I know she was sweet on you, in her own way, and you..." He paused, straining, as if trying to swallow down something hard. "I know how you felt about her. Believe me, I understand." He glanced out at his metal hand yet again, and whispered. "Karma. Fucking karma, Chloe. All of it."

She bowed her head fully, scratching her scalp through the beanie, and drawing another lungful of tobacco smoke. "Ah Frank, sorry, I'm not gonna sugarcoat this for you: you sold the gun. You didn't use it, didn't pull the trigger, but you sold that shit to Nathan and it...it got used for..."

 _Christ. Look at him. He really burned himself hard. And he knows it. Worse, he cares. He actually fucking cares, all too late, how he fucked up. What it cost him...cost_ us _. Drug dealing, loan sharking scum sucker with a soul? Yeah, sure, why the fuck not. I should be dead five times over myself. World of wonders we live in._

She paused. Like a switch going off in her head, as she suddenly made a decision.

She shook her head. "But I'm not gonna hate you anymore for that. Not gonna demand kickass retribution. You did it mostly to yourself already. The storm took care of the rest. I see you, and I realize...that you realize it, yeah? So just go and do something that'll make her fucking proud of _you_."

 _I'll never know if she really loved you, or if she was just using you for drugs. I don't need to twist the knife in your gut on that point. Not anymore._

"Jesus. Fucking. H. Christ. What the hell happened to you, Price? I know you're still a bitch, I just heard it in there, but...but there's something different about you now." Frank shook his head with exaggerated slowness, moving to scratch his dog underneath the chin now. "You're...dunno. Focused. Like...you took all that anger and hate and fire and you boxed it up. Didn't hide it just...started making it work better for you. Owned it. That...that make any kind of sense?"

"Perfect. Yeah. Yeah I guess so. Woo hoo, you make it sound like a fortune cookie." She started to wiggle her hands in the air. "Master your rage, lest your rage master you!" She finished off most of the cigarette and then crushed it under her bootheel. "Besides, don't you know? I died. It didn't take though, but...death kinda has a way of mellowing you out."

It was true, in a manner of speaking. Chloe died, or rather, embraced death. Cleared her mind, prepared herself for it. Came within a hairsbreadth of departing the world...until the world interveined.

 _One Chloe dies in that moment. Another Chloe takes her place. Yeah, sure, why not? How different is that from all the other alternate realities and shit Max told me about? Why_ can't _I just be a different version of myself since that night? Better than being like the alternate version of me that...begged Max to..._

Frank said, "Hah. Yeah? That right? Kinda figured it was mostly 'cause you're getting fucked on the regular by your girlfriend these days." He lowered his voice, and added. "Don't tell her I said it like that, though. Don't give a damn about you, but I actually kinda care what she thinks about me. That and...people tell me she was the one who really stepped up to take care of my dog, most days."

 _Yeah. It was easier for her to deal with the animals than the people._

"Yeah...yeah well. She does like dogs. Arf arf."

Chloe glanced over her should, noted that the meeting was letting out. In a minute or two, she figured David would be looking for her, ready to give her a drive back to the trailer park.

 _Huh. A bit earlier than I thought it'd be._

She rose, sighed, then struggled for a moment to summon the words. "Okay. I gotta get going Frank. Work and shit tomorrow but...and I can't fucking believe I'm going to say this, so do me a favor and just blow me off...but stay in touch. Alright? If you're really gonna stick around Arcadia Bay, stay in touch."

He grunted, working painfully into a standing position as well. "Yeah. Huh. Maybe. Don't feel like I owe it to you or anything, but maybe if I see Max, I'll wave. If you're with her, I...guess I'll fucking wave to you too."

She gave the smallest smirk, despite herself. "Yeah. I guess that'll work. See ya round, Frank."

"Keep wearing those ovaries on the outside, bitch." he chuckled.

* * *

"Really think you got through to them. There was only one or two other people who tried to speak out against keeping the town together...but the way they were talking? Just don't think their heart was in it." David said, as they pulled up to the trailer. "You were...you were great, Chloe. Kinda amazing, really. Just wish your Mom could have seen, but hey? Maybe someone was taking a video and it shows up on that Youtube thing tomorrow."

Chloe snorted, opening the truck door and hopping out once it came to a stop. "Riiiight. Hashtag: Arcadia Bay Fuck Yeah." She rubbed her arms hard, trying to chase the chill from them, before admitting. "Still. It was nice to use my powers of bitchcraft for something more than trying to get my own way. I mean, don't get me wrong, this _is_ kinda about me getting my way, but..." She paused, then groaned. "Fuck, David. I never thought I'd say it, but I really wish I'd registered to vote. Won't get a chance to weigh on in this shit next month."

As they made their way into the trailer, lowering their voices so as not to disturb anyone, he said, "Something tells me we won't need your vote. Mean that in the good way. I really think you turned this thing around, Chloe. I ah..." He tried to keep from smiling too wide. "Think you might have saved the town." He then mock-glowered. "Don't let it get to your fucking head, though."

She tightened her lips, holding back the laughter. Mock-saluted and murmured. "Aye aye, Captain. See ya in the morning."

Pushing past the curtain, she found Max in the twin bed they shared. The sleeping arrangements were cramped, but since it meant they had to spoon together to fit, it suited Chloe just fine.

Max was still awake, still taking refuge in her fantasy realms. Cartoons now. Archer, from the look of it.

 _Yes!_

"Lana. Lana. Laaaanaaa!" Chloe stage-whispered to Max, poking her playfully on the sides.

"Oh God! What, Archer?!" Max replied, her smile wide and happy.

"Daaaaaayyynnngah Zoooone!" Chloe called back, before leaning in to steal a kiss.

Chloe laid back, allowing Max to encircle her with her arms.

"S-so. You went, right?" Max asked. "You just look, or you, um, you know? Did you say anything? Did it sound like people...like they're gonna stay? Or go?" She tried to keep from seeming too eager, too desperate to hear what happened.

Chloe shrugged. "Oh. Yeah. I actually did get up and say something."

Max nestled her head against the crook of Chloe's arm. "R-really? Neat." she breathed out. "I'm...I'm happy. Thank you, Chloe. Really meant a lot. I bet it helped. I bet you helped. I know you hate talking in public like that, you always sucked during speech day at school..."

"Hey!" Chloe called out, pretending to be insulted.

Max leaned up, kissed her on the tip of her nose. "What did you say to them?"

"Say? Oh. Just a few things. Probably the same shit you would have, you know? I believe I made a cogent, logical argument, bolstered by succinct, well researched points." She leaned in, nibbling at Max's hair. "I was a perfect knight champion for my lady."

"Hee. There you go." Max said. "You're doing it again."

"Doin' what?" Chloe asked.

"Sounding like your Dad. There's...there's so much of William in you. I mean, I knew it, always saw it. But...it's really shining through these days."

Chloe leaned in, whispering against Max's ear. "It's cause you bring out the best in me. Though if you'll excuse me sweetie, I really gotta just crash out. Need to get up ass early tomorrow."

Max nodded, before giving her a goodnight kiss. She then quickly curled up tight against her side. Chloe half expected her to go back to her tablet watching after a few minutes of snuggling, but was pleasantly surprised to discover...

 _...hey. Oh my fucking God, she fell asleep. Oh christ. Thank you!_

"Well...back to the grind tomorrow." Chloe whispered to herself, before stretching out in full, and dropping off to sleep herself.

* * *

The vote was held on the first of April.

The final decision wasn't even close.

Arcadia Bay would continue to struggle on in the days ahead. But it would do so as its own entity.

* * *

 _ **A/N:**_ Hey Swanketteers! It's time for another Black Swan Sat...

*Pauses. Blinks. Looks over her index cards*

Oh damn, sorry! Got confused there. Wrong series! But Black Swan IS coming back in just a week!

I can't believe I'm managing to bang out a chapter a day of THIS series. I'm not sure I can keep that pace up much longer. Like all my projects, it's taking longer than I expected. This is not exactly a bad thing, I suppose *laugh* The next chapter might be rather short, but it'll be pretty critical, too.

Anyhow, have a great weekend! Thanks to everyone for your awesome faves, follows and reviews so far!


	4. Chapter 4

**November 4th, 2014**

Chloe was in surprisingly good spirits as she walked up the flight of stairs to the run down, top floor apartment she and Max shared. It was a temporary arrangement, just a place in the next town over until an appropriate replacement opened up back in Arcadia Bay. Chloe was now making actual money doing construction, and fittingly enough, the latest project was rebuilding her Mom's house.

Granted, Jeff Stevens, who'd been promoted to foreman in the meantime, kept threatening - non-seriously, for the most part - to pull her off the project. To be fair, Chloe _was_ being rather insufferable at times about trying to recreate the place as perfectly as possible. Especially when it came time to work on the dimensions for her bedroom. And then when she found out that some of the old layout was going to need to be changed around due to new building regs...

But by and large, life was good. She was looking pretty healthy, as construction work gave her a lean, muscular look that totally suited her. She had purpose, a paycheck, and well...her asexual romantic partner. That was okay though; for Max, she could wait until doomsday. Sex was nice and all - and she did kinda miss it, of course, but she'd never trade all of the warm hugs, meaningful glances, lap-cuddles and nuzzling that life with Max offered up, in lieu of any number of meaningless, one-night hookups.

No one else could give her That Smile. And the way it lit up her life.

Chloe had faith; Max _was_ getting better. Making progress. Granted, she was on disability, unable to hold down a job or return to school, but she wasn't just wandering in the house in a daze either, or spending all her time getting baked and watching television, as had been the first few months of her life post-Storm. She'd re-taken her photographic studies up in earnest, managing to earn her GED and working on her degree online at some rather fancy place in San Francisco.

She paused, taking a moment to reminisce about when Max got her acceptance letter.

" _Chloe! Oh my God!"_ her voice squeaked. _"This is a really prestigious place. Ansel Adams started the Photography department. Annie Lebowitz graduated from there!"_

It was the most animated and lifelike she'd seen her since...since...

 _...the night of the storm. She's finally starting to make it, again. I mean, I know, some days are better than others. She's still kind of a wreck, if she goes out in town too long. Can't stand to be out of the apartment unless she's by my side. But whatever it takes...for however long it takes._

It was stupid - maybe? But Chloe was convinced that they shared a bond now. Something unbreakable. Enduring. Longlife and beyond. People would probably tell her that at age twenty, she was too damn young to say 'forever', but what the hell did they know? The things they'd done, what she'd experienced. What Max showed her. The tragedy and the heartache they shared. Their years and years of history together, even before That Particular Week In October.

"They don't know about us." Chloe sang softly. "And they've never heard of love."

And now, with the news Chloe just received tonight - crazy, unbelievable...maybe not fantastic, but still kind of awesome, definitely life changing-ish - everything felt like it was falling into place at last.

Not to mention that it looked like after the election tonight, weed was finally getting legalized in Oregon.

 _YES! YES YES YES!_

She pushed the door open hard, calling out, her arms held up in triumph, "Hey baby! Guess what! You'll never believe what happened! Guess what those idiots did..."

Chloe stopped, the moment she saw Max. Her good cheer hitting a brick wall, happy spirit turning cold with trepidation as she looked at her girlfriend. How she was curled up in a tight ball on the couch. Her makeup still smeared from crying.

But that wasn't what weighed like ice in her guts.

Two bags were packed. Max had very little left in the world, past her clothing, tablet, camera and laptop. Some of Blackwell fared well, but in a curious twist, the Girls Dorm took the most damage. Regardless, Max was still able to save some personal items.

But she'd lost a lot.

Chloe swallowed hard, closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and then walked over towards the couch.

 _This isn't what you think it is Chloe._

And what, exactly, did she think _was_ happening?

 _This isn't Max walking out! It...it can't be! You're just being paranoid. Just get in there and talk to her, okay? It's going to be all right. You're going to take care of it. Just like you've done every day for the past year._

Max smiled up at her, through the tears and grief written plain on her face. But it was a sad, pained thing.

"Chloe." She whispered out hoarsely.

Lowering herself carefully onto the couch, the blunette reached out tentatively, afraid that Max would pull away or shut down if she touched her. Was relieved, almost ecstatic really, when the other girl instead leaned in. She was still trembling, gave another choked sob, but hugged her in return.

"I...I saw Warren today."

 _Oh. Damn._

Not that Chloe knew a fucking thing about this. She'd been so busy, wrapped up in her little life of rebuilding Arcadia Bay with a vengeance, continuing to mend familial fences with David and Mom, and trying to be as good and supportive a partner to Max that, short of a few other things, she'd more or less fallen out of touch with whatever else was going on these days.

 _Maybe I didn't want to pay attention. Maybe I'm not over things, accepting of what happened, as I thought. And like, I'm just burying my head in the sand, and meanwhile, poor Max is still looking up, looking around. Like...all I want to see is the future of Arcadia Bay, and all she can see is what happened in the past._

"Oh...yeah? Huh. I didn't realize he made it out of his coma. Or that they let out of the hospital." Chloe shook her head lightly, and felt a knot of guilt tighten up in her sternum. It wasn't that she disliked the guy. He was kinda a geek and nerd, but so was she. So was Max. Everyone knew he'd been crushing on her...

 _...and okay, he took it a little hard when she chose me over him. But, you know, - grrr! My Max!_

 _On the other hand, maaaan. He beat the shit out of Nathan when the need came up. Better track record than me, Graham! And...and you did your part, accidentally or not, to save the world. The power of your drunk, maudlin selfie-taking so saved me So...so I gotta give you props, dude._

 _We shoulda been friends. Probably would have been, eventually._

"Chloe..." Max said. It was more of a raspy wheeze than anything else. She shook her head, tears falling fresh. "He was..." She stopped. Breathed in hard and long through her nose, before trying again. "It wasn't just a little damage. It wasn't a lot, either. Warren's...s'like he's trapped in his own head. He's lost enough, just enough to understand that somethings wrong with him. That his mind isn't like it was, before. He's going away for treatment. His Mom says...says maybe..."

Wrapping her arms around Max in full, and rubbing her back, Chloe whispered, "It's okay. You can do this. You can get through this. Tell me."

"If he lost so much that he couldn't remember anything anymore, he'd be happy, I think. You know? Simple, but happy. But he's not. It's like...like dying would have been kinder for him, Chloe! He's angry and frustrated, with what's happened to him. And oh God, I think he knows! The way he was just staring at me. I think he knows it was me! It was my fault! Chloe! Just one more person I killed in this town!"

Chloe did her best to be a rock, to ignore her own sick, lava-hot panic roiling inside. To calm her girlfriend down through the attack she'd worked herself up into.

Max's stattico cries punctuated the stillness of the night, reverberating off the wood floor and high ceiling. It took a good five minutes for her to come through the worst of it, back to a point where she was at least vaguely cogent and could talk again. Before she did though, she reached into her bag, pulling out a hash oil pen, and took a series of deep, hard drags.

"F-fuck. Wanted to do this straight, Chloe. Do it with a clear...mind." she bemoaned, but relief slowly began to spread through her face as the cannabis oil quickly went to work. "Thought you deserved that much. Thought you deserved...better than me!"

Chloe simply sat there while Max stroked her short bangs. She'd recently dyed them again, and they were now restored to a vibrant morpho blue.

"Max," Chloe began. "Baby...please?" She tried to keep a pleading tone from her voice. "It's a setback. A bad one, I know. But...but please don't..."

The brunette quickly shook her head. "No. No it's more'n that. I can't. Can't do this anymore, Chloe. Can't stay in this town. Can't keep waking up to the nightmares, still won't go away. To the constant reminders, of what happened last year."

She started to claw nervously at her chest. "I gotta leave. Maybe it's the coward's way out, but I have to leave..." She took another drag, and continued, breathing out the vapor as she spoke. "Just...just just for a little bit, okay? Just for a while. Let me get my head straight. I gotta recover, someplace else. Please, please understand?"

Chloe nodded once. "You need to leave. I completely understand. The fact that you came back at all, last year, is just..."

She made a snap decision, right then and there. Nodded once, and with a soft, but confident tone, said "Yup. Cool. Let me go and pack a bag. I'll go with you. Lease is month to month, so we can break it anytime. I'll call Jeff and..."

She was stopped by Max placing fingertips on her mouth. Her girlfriend shaking her head sadly.

"Knew...knew you'd say something like that. You'd never question it. Just run off with me, run away." She smiled through her tears. "Because you're amazing." She leaned in, and kissed her. A kiss Chloe was more than willing to return, grateful for the physical intimacy. The notion that this could still be salvaged.

 _Just as long as we stay together!_

"But I can't, Chloe."

The bottom began to fall out, just like that.

Max continued. "A few days ago, I almost could, you know? Could just about convince myself to go through with it, have you come with me, and we'd be happy, even if just for a while. Guess that was my original plan: tell you I have to go, while hoping you come with."

She glanced over at the phone. " But then your Mom called..."

"Oh." Chloe said, feeling like the air had been punched out of her stomach. "Y-you heard."

Max nodded, smiling in pain. "S-so proud of you. So fucking proud! And that's the difference between us, Chloe. That's how it's changed. You saved Arcadia Bay. You..."

"Oh God! Please...no...don't...don't make me out to be..." Chloe started to protest, a bit more sharply than she intended.

Max wasn't deterred. "You did! You gave people hope! Still do! Kept them from giving up, those first few days. And then inspired everyone not to leave the town back in April. Look at this place now, Chloe. It's like how, you know, the Japanese? Rebuilt almost everything in just a year, after that tsunami. It's almost that good around Arcadia Bay now. Just a year, and so much amazing stuff, so much progress." She gave a sharp, hard laugh, "I...I destroyed the town. You saved it. And...and if I take you away now...after tonight, after all those people have cried out for you to stay."

Max tore herself away, rising to her feet, shuddering. "I'll kill the town again! Maybe for good! And I..." she stared down at her hands. "Look at me, Chloe. Look at me! So small! I'm frightened all the time...and pathetic!"

"Max!" Chloe yelled out, shooting up to her feet, rubbing the back of her head, trying to viciously stamp out the rising fear in her voice. "Don't. Never, not once, ever say that about yourself!" She walked over and all but smashed Max against her chest, holding tight. "You have done so much! You've saved this town too! In your own way! Made it better...be-because...you ever think that storm was _always_ gonna happen? Huh? Maybe like...it was just destiny. No matter what? I didn't think that way, not at first, but the more I look around, the better I see things getting...that..."

Max shook her head, her eyes wide with terror. "Don't..." she begged. "Don't say it..."

"That storm was the best thing that ever happened to this fucking town!" Chloe cried out.

Instantly regretting it.

But not entirely.

 _Because it's true. Because it's fucking true, damnit._

"Doesn't...doesn't mean it's not a tragedy. All the good people who died. All the lives that got shattered. But this town was dying anyway, Max! You saw it."

She punctuated the next three words by smacking her palm, behind Max's back. "It. Was. Dying. And now for the first time in forever, people have hope. People are talking about Arcadia Bay in the present tense, and the future, and not about lost glories of the past! But it's not all on me! It can't be! It can't." Chloe started to lose her composure, her voice rising in tone.

"I did my part!" she continued. "I saved the day! If this town can't survive without Chloe Price walking away for a few years so that the woman she..."

She looked down at Max, letting the tears fall freely at last.

"Max...I love you." she sobbed, voice juddering as she breathed in soft gasps. "Please...please don't leave me here."

Max leaned up, cupping one cheek, and kissing her lips. It was slow, soft, sweet. It lacked some of the passion and physical intensity that their first true kiss possessed, but Chloe instinctively understood that it was no less emotional nor heartfelt.

"I love you, too." She said, warm breath caressing Chloe's cheek. "And that's why I have to leave. I'm leaving for me, Che. I'm leaving for us. I have to find the person I was before. I have to make her better. For you. Because you have grown...become so much more. Thrived. Risen up and are so...so shining now! It's almost blinding! I need to be the same way, Chloe. For you. I need to be worthy of your love."

 _Fight, you stupid bitch! Fight! Beg! Plead! Demand! Threaten! Do not, do not, DO NOT let her walk out that door without you!_

"I could go with you. You couldn't stop me. I could follow you to the ends of the Earth." Chloe said, in a tight, thin voice.

Max closed her eyes, shook her head sleepily. "Not if I ask you to stay here for me, Chloe."

Chloe cried out, as if shocked. Bowed her head, and coughed. "Not...not fair."

Leaning up and whispering, Max kissed her ear. "I need you here, Chloe. You're the only good thing I have left to give to this town, now. The only penance I can perform. My Chloe. The heart and soul of Arcadia Bay."

"Not fair!" Chloe repeated, shaking her head, holding back from the edge of hysterics.

"I'm coming back for you, Chloe Price." Max said, conviction rising up quickly in her voice. Believe me. Believe me, please. This is for us. I'm going to San Francisco to study. You...you better email me." She sniffled, her voice cracking anew. "And call and write...promise. I'm not gonna let it happen again. Not gonna let the years pass between us like...like last time!"

Wrapping her arms tightly around herself, a hand covering her face, Chloe felt herself shut down. Drawn taut between two points impossibly created by her love for Max: a desire to run away with her, and a desperate need to be what and where Max required.

 _Move me onto any black square. Use me anytime you want._

Her smartphone buzzed, and Max walked over to pick up her bags. "It's my cab. Gotta go now, Che. I...gotta go before I totally lose it." She looked up at her, with pleading eyes. "Please understand."

Chloe reached deep inside. Took all of that rage, fire, righteous indignation that had been her _modus operandi_ over the past few years, and crushed it into a tight, hard, ball. Stuck that ball into a deep, dark cave, and covered up the opening. Felt herself slip on the mask. The one that she knew Max needed to see.

Looking up, Chloe rubbed her eyes, and gave a soft, sad, but ultimately understanding smile.

"I'm...really gonna miss you, Max. But I want you to be better. I want...you to be happy." She pulled her into one more hug, tight, but not fierce. One that was accepting. One that was ready to let her go, however reluctantly.

Even if it was all a lie.

"Good luck, baby." Chloe whispered, kissing her hair and face. "Show'em you're my angel. You go out and fly"

Max looked infinitely relieved. Maybe she didn't buy whatever act Chloe was putting on for her. But maybe she did. Clearly, she needed to.

Chloe died a little over a year ago. The woman just about to walk out the door, and possibly out of her life, gave her each and every precious second she enjoyed since that day. For Max's sake, as much as it killed her, as much as it ate away at her heart and soul, Chloe would walk through perdition's flames, do what she needed, be what was required.

Max enfolded her in one last tight hug, nestling her head against the blunette's chest. Chloe hugged back, and tried to memorize her, by touch, and scent and even taste when they shared a final kiss.

And then she stood there, while Max left, closing the door behind her.

She sank to her knees, absorbing each and every footfall that echoed up the stairs as they grew softer, more distant. Couldn't bring herself to look for Max out the window, nor wave goodbye.

She stared at the doorknob for a good ten minutes, breathing shakily. Tears flowed down her face, but she was unable summon the emotional wherewithal to react. At least, not at first.

It grew, and grew, and grew, on and on, that frustration, and anger, and hurt, until Chloe felt as if she'd lost all control, acting completely on primal instinct.

"Damnit! DAMNIT!" her voice screamed, filled with anguish and heartache.

She reached out, grabbing whatever she could and started throwing it with all her strength at the walls.

Upended tables. Smashed a couple chairs.

"I hate...!"

 _my life_

"I hate...!"

 _this fucking town!_

"I hate...!"

 _Max Caulfield._

"I hate...!"

 _...myself._

Her rage ultimately spent after ten minutes of adrenaline-fueled fury that felt like a lifetime, she stared up at the ceiling, sprawled out on her back, across the floor.

"Why, God?" she whimpered, sniffling.

A few minutes later, her smartphone rang. Without intending to, she pulled it out of her pocket and answered.

"H-hello?" she said, in a tight voice.

"Whoa-ho, hey Chloe!"

It was Jeff Stevens.

"I catch ya at a bad time?"

"N-no" she lied. "Um...s'up?"

"What's up? Hell, I wanted to congratulate you! I mean damn, you gotta know what's happened by now, right? You heard the news?" he said.

"Yeah." she spoke, tight, tired and slow. "I definitely heard."

"Wow. Must have been a shock, huh?"

She felt the urge to laugh herself into blind hysterics burble up. Let it pass before answering.

"It...was a shock. Definitely a shock."

"Yeah. But not a surprise, right? I mean, c'mon, you must have known. Must have seen what was coming."

"In retrospect? I suppose I should have..."

"Ha ha! Boy, you sound really...oh shit. Did I catch you and your girlfriend um...like. 'Celebrating'?"

Chloe took a long, labored breath.

"No. You totally did not. No worries there."

"Ah? Hah, cool enough. Hey listen, I know we're probably gonna lose you soon, to bigger and better things, but could you help me out? Wilson's gonna be out tomorrow, ear infection of all things. Can you pick up his shift? I know that'd make it a double, but with the boom in construction these days, that's some serious overtime pay you could make."

Chloe closed her eyes. In one breath, she died.

Hell, she'd had enough experience with it, so it was an easy enough trick to pull off by now, right?

In the next, she lived again. Her eyes flew open, and her voice sounded far more animated.

"Ear ache? Damn. Well shit, sure. Yeah, I'll pick it up. His loss, my gain. I mean, after all..."

She rose up, towards a sitting position. Gave the door one last lingering look.

"It's not like I've got anything else going on in my life these days."

* * *

 _ **A/N:**_ Hey hey folks! How are you...whoa. Wait...wait a second. Put down those torches and pitchfolks! *raises up hands nervously*

Seriously, this is still a Pricefield fic, and nothing's changing that. But the course of true love sometimes goes on a rocky sideroad. *le sigh*

Don't worry though. I promise to spare you the worst of it. Another chapter or two, and things will be back. Not to normal. Better than normal, I'd hope, for our Gayngels sake :) So yeah! There's that. Don't lynch me, because how else can I get Max and Chloe back together? ;-)

That said, thank you for all the faves and follows and reviews. I've really been enjoying writing this particular story, and I'm happy folks seem to be taking a shine to it, by and large. So I'll try to get the next chapter out in a couple days. In the meantime, have a good week!


	5. Chapter 5

**September 2017**

"Surely you're joking. For God's sake...you can't be serious."

Chloe stared hard, practically scowling at her fellow Alderman across the table. Pointing at her face with her forefinger, thumb extended out as if her hand were a gun, she all but growled out, "You tell me, Steven. Does this look like my usual expression of childlike whimsy and delight?"

For the past three years, Chloe Price served as Alderman-At-Large for Arcadia Bay. Initially drafted to the position as part of a grassroots write-in campaign, she threw herself into the job - part time as it was - with all the seriousness she could muster, despite initially having no idea what she should be doing. Under normal circumstances, she probably would have rejected the position outright; put out a small press release, thanking the voters, but politely telling them that they had to be out of their damn minds to give her _any_ measure of power.

Max's sudden departure changed all that. In the wake of her exit to San Francisco, there was nothing left for Chloe, other than her construction job, and her mother and step-father. Max point-blank asked her to stay here. To do what she could, with whatever opportunities she was presented, to make Arcadia Bay a better place. It was the one sacrifice Max felt she could offer up, a desperate means to make amends to the town she blamed herself for wronging.

Thus, Chloe's political service became a tribute to the woman who owned her heart.

But she lost a fair measure of her happy exuberance, though she was always careful to sharpen her cynic's wit only towards those who deserved it. Whenever she met with any of the citizens she represented - and as an At-Large, that meant the entire town - she did her best to be as gracious and diplomatically accommodating as possible; it's not that she was a fake per se, but certainly she'd gotten increasingly better at wearing whatever masks a particular situation required. Making people believe in the verisimilitude and authenticity of what she was projecting. It was all just different versions of the same base person.

Chloe Price discovered, much to her shock and horror, that she actually had a talent for this political bullshit.

She made sure to personally vow to use her powers only for good. Or at least, her definition of it.

Before long, she started working towards her associates degree in Government from U of O Corvallis' online program, obtaining it last year.

Her outward image quickly evolved; no longer sporting skater regalia or a blue coiffure. These days, her hair was cut and styled into the wings of an elongated bob, dyed raven black. Flannel and denim gave way to leggings, leather skirts or pants, matching leather blazers and silk blouses. Face done up in kohl and black lipstick, ebony nails that looked long and sharp enough to cut diamond. Skechers slip ons and Doc Martins put aside, heavy cuffed pirate and witch boots taking their place.

'Business Goth' was how she referred to her new style. It was her own way of reflecting the loss of spontaneous joy in her life. Of rebelling while still remaining mostly palatable to the voters. To her secret surprise and delight, they ate it all up. The one underground newspaper in town constantly referred to her as 'The People's Punk Princess'. She was different and individualistic enough to appeal to the dreamer and the iconoclast, with a proven track record of results, stability and reluctant, realistic compromise that reassured your average voter on the street that Chloe Price could get 'bidness' done..

Her re-election last year went unopposed.

Despite her new exterior presentation, she was far from being a completely miserable crank, the kind of woman who brooded ceaselessly. She could still laugh, still joke. Be kind and loving, have passion for things great and small. But her true heart and her soul where elsewhere.

She couldn't be the old Chloe Price anymore.

That woman died at long last, on the floor of an old apartment. With the next Chloe's incarnation, her 'second act' began in earnest.

Tonight, she was facing down her perennial nemesis, Steven Exeter; a member of the old guard, with his salt and pepper hair, and hideously expensive grey business suit. One of the few who did well for themselves in the periphery of the Prescott's power and influence, he'd been Sean's...what was it?

 _Stockbroker? Lawyer? Accountant? Fuck all if I can remember what lacky role he's played. Maybe hoping to play again._

They'd butted heads, time and again, almost from day one. Chloe was often backed by Michelle Grant, her old science teacher, still working most of the time at Blackwell; Exeter's compatriot was Haim Toller, an older, conservative gentleman who lived his entire life in town, but occasionally surprised Chloe by voting with her and Grant. More often than not, however, the town council was deadlocked, leaving the beleaguered town manager, Christian Haydock, to break the tie.

To his credit, Haydock was a excellent technocrat; though not often willing to give in to Chloe's full demands, he likewise appeared practically immune to the usual corruption and petty dealings politics were rife with. Having grown up in Arcadia Bay, he returned not long after the storm, looking to help rebuild his childhood hometown. A civil engineer by trade, he was essentially perfect for his job, especially in the role of 'cooling saucer' for the polarized views between his most vocal Aldermen.

Still, there was only a single At-Large position on the council, and Chloe was more than happy to point out that she alone could claim to represent the wishes of the town as a whole.

Sometimes that argument actually worked.

Exeter sighed impatiently. "You're being incredibly unreasonable with your demands. This is an ideal opportunity for our town. Mr. Prescott has graciously agreed to return to Arcadia Bay..."

Chloe snorted, interrupting. "Graciously!?"

He frowned, raising his voice, "Yes. Graciously, especially in light of way that you viciously slandered him during his moment of personal tragedy..."

She slammed her first on the table. "Oh, give me a fucking break, Steven! Slander? Seriously? Which part was unfairly defaming that asshole? The receipts entered into evidence showing that he was bankrolling his son's many, _many_ crimes, the school documents that proved he was leaning on Ray to cover his kid's public outbursts, or the sworn confession of Mark Fucking Jefferson to like...practically everything!? "

Exeter lost a large measure of his patience, and sighed heavily, "Alderman Price...might I remind you that Sean Prescott was ultimately acquitted of his unintentional role in the tragic events of four years ago? Mark Jefferson and Nathan were both found to be conspiring to embezzle funds..."

"Bullshit!" Chloe snarled out. "He _had_ to know what was going on. You just don't drop hella cash like that without suspecting _some_ thing."

"And you're hardly impartial!" Exeter snapped in return.

Chloe's eyes widened with disgust. "Oh yeah! Excuse me for being one of Nathan's victims! Excuse me for having friends that he either raped, or raped and then murdered! You find it strange this shit would fucking tick me off, it's because I'm a human being with a soul and a conscience!"

"Enough! Both of you! God...damnit." Haydock forcefully interrupted, holding up a hand between the two of them. "I swear, it's always the same song and dance with you two. If we could please get this back on track?" He turned to the man on his right. "Alderman Exeter, your argument? In two minutes or less?"

"Of course, Manager." Exeter pulled himself up to his full height, folding his hands together on the meeting table. "Sean Prescott acknowledges that his grief at having tragically lost his son, combined with being so grossly taken advantage of by the demented Mark Jefferson may certainly have caused him to act hastily three years ago. He has roots deep in this community, and is dedicated to reestablishing them. Given his past service to this town, his business acumen and considerable financial assets, I believe it is in Arcadia Bay's best interest to extend our most accommodating welcome. With all due respect, what's best for the Prescotts will be what's best for this town. If nothing else, they deserve the same...generosity that Alderman Price championed for her friend, Ms. O'Meara."

 _Oh, you asshole!_

Chloe slowly bobbed her head side to side, dramatically rolling her eyes, and took a long breath, holding her tongue only by extreme force of will.

 _Did it hurt, Steven, when they extracted the decency from you? Or were you just born without any?_

"Alderman Price?" Haydock inquired. "Your argument? In two minutes or less."

Chloe jumped right in, focusing her raging anger into laser-tight focus, eyes narrowing and occasionally darting between the other two men. "Manager, I'll be blunt: despite whatever positive influence Prescott money may have once had on this town, the fact of the matter is that Sean was a horrible member of this community. He used the family wealth to insulate his son Nathan from the consequences of his outrageous behavior at school, negligently bankrolled a criminal conspiracy, and then withdrew from this community when his resources would have been the most beneficial during our rebuilding efforts. Frankly, I think that was the plan all along: pull the rug out from under us, wait for us to disincorporate, buy the best chunks for a song, and the re-incorporate under his effective rule.

Not that Chloe had any actual evidence of this conspiracy, but it just made too much damn sense.

 _Wonder what he would have called his new fiefdom. Prescott Heights? Seansville? Suck My Dick, Arcadia Bay Oregon?_

"Despite our losing access to his wealth as well as his...ahem...presence and force of will, Arcadia Bay is now experiencing a new renaissance. I submit to you that Sean Prescott now needs us _far_ more than we need him. And he damn well knows it."

In this, there was probably no small amount of truth. Fortune chose to smile on Arcadia Bay, that much was obvious. Three years ago, an up and coming green tech company called AkashaDyne went looking for a radical way to demonstrate and gain positive media coverage for their revolutionary new high-efficiency solar arrays. Sold as packages coupled with licensed Tesla battery packs, The AD-3000 Helios system promised to create a highly distributed power mesh through the entire town, with significant off-grid capacity in cases of emergency. They offered to sell these packages to construction companies during the primary phase of the rebuilding effort at below cost if the town agreed to essentially turn themselves into a model community for Helios.

Chloe was naturally suspicious; the notion of Greeks bearing gifts ran through her mind more than once. She read up as much as she could on the system and the company itself. Used those initial first months on the town council to get AkashaDyne to make a good faith effort to allow their technology to be studied. She personally worked with their certified techs to install the system on a few demo houses. Personally met on several occasions with the CEO, Glenda O'Meara. Looked for any and all tricks, traps and gotchas in the proposed agreement.

And despite her best efforts to try and scotch the deal, to look for the poison pill, Chloe was forced to admit, that she'd found a rare visionary. Someone who, yes, of course, wanted to make money, but felt that a corporation had a civic duty to better the world with its products, and to behave in a reasonable - that was, non-psychopathic - fashion. O'Meara agreed with Chloe, that Arcadia Bay's destruction presented a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to rebuild it from the ground up as the community of the future.

So Chloe took a chance; threw her support fully behind the agreement. Most of the houses and businesses constructed in town agreed to have the Helios system installed, with building guidelines and zoning laws that allowed for property tax breaks if new businesses that moved into town also agreed to join in.

It had the effect of making Arcadia Bay something of a 'company town'. Chloe wasn't thrilled with the notion; it seemed too much like trading one overlord for another, but the town desperately needed the money and resources, and some way to stand out in the world other than "worst disaster in Oregon history."

AkashaDyne turned out to be a splendid corporate partner; pleased by the overwhelming positive media response, O'Meara relocated her main production factory into a new industrial district in town. With orders now pouring in from across the country, the company made investments in upgrading the rail yard and the shipping docks. With such world-class facilities now at its disposal, Arcadia Bay was transforming itself into a new hub of the emerging green economy, the rare producer of American made goods, now shipping out across the country. With freshly-built infrastructure and a workforce that was becoming increasingly educated, more and more businesses were finding it an attractive place to relocate.

And as of last month, Arcadia Bay was now a net producer and exporter of electrical power for the rest of Lincoln County, creating a small but significant decrease in power costs.

Seeking to keep the momentum going after her first tremendous victory, Chloe spent political capital like it was going out of style: she pushed for small business development districts, by-laws and guidelines to help 'preserve the character of the community.' She'd be damned if the likes of Walmart and Starbucks thought they could just waltz in and homogenize the hell out of _her_ town, turn it into just another gentrified playground for the rich and powerful. Her opposition was fierce, but Chloe still had the community at her back. She knew they might forget someday, trade away their hard earned gains for a mess of pottage, but for today, the middle class would find a fair deal in Arcadia Bay. This was more than appropriate, considering how much they had worked, sweat, and bled to make it all possible.

The hardest sell was convincing people to jump on the legal cannabis bandwagon; it was nearly defeated, but the town ballot question she pushed through to establish a "green zone", which allowed for a limited number of cannabis-based businesses, managed to take tentative root. Limited to a handful of tasteful bed and breakfasts, one high scale cannabis shop, and a vaporizer lounge. People's skepticism soon dissolved as Baby Boomers and college Millenials with disposable income flocked to the gorgeous countryside to get legally baked, flooding the nascent tourism industry with cash.

All the positive developments aside, many challenges still lay ahead: property taxes were still higher than state average, too many of the lowest income residents were getting pushed out, despite Chloe's best efforts to preserve a place for them, and there was increasing friction between the conservative "Old Bay" culture and the more liberal "New Arcadia" supporters. But in the three years since the tornado, dramatically dubbed 'Megastorm Azrael" by the media, all but leveled the town, Arcadia Bay was quickly becoming a blueprint for other communities to follow.

Concluding her argument, Chloe said, "Given his past behavior, we can only assume that unless we bind him to _stringent_ terms, Sean Prescott will once again become a corruptive influence on our fair town. The package I'm suggesting, with significant affordable housing project ratios to compensate for his high end developments, the contributions to the community preservation fund, his agreeing to respect and contribute to the small business district, and his consenting to install Helios systems on _all_ his business and housing units - because if he wants to join the community, he needs to pitch in again - all seem like a fair price to ask...for what is essentially us taking a chance and letting a snake back into the garden."

Tapping his steepled fingers together, Haydock leaned back, the wheels obviously turning over in his head, as he sought to weigh the arguments, come up with a balanced compromise.

After ten or fifteen seconds, he spoke up. "I'm inclined to agree with Alderman Price." He turned meaningful to her, and said, "To. A. Point." Glancing to Exeter, he continued, "Arcadia Bay is, for all intents and purposes, now a new community. And whether he thinks it's fair or not, his past actions do merit honest evaluation. I'm not blind, not an naive idiot. I'm sure Prescott would love to be back on top. If he wants to reach that goal, this town isn't obligated to give him a head start."

He held up a warning hand to Exeter, before the other man could complain. Fixing a steely gaze on Chloe, Haydock added, "But Chloe, there's setting an appropriate cost to the price of reentry, to weighing someone's past actions in the appropriate context...and then there's being downright punitive! Some of your demands are needlessly unreasonable. I'm particularly uncomfortable with this notion of outright forcing him to pay money to AkashaDyne if he wants to develop in this town. Frankly, what you're suggesting is practically illegal, given that no other new developer has had those kinds of restrictions placed upon them, not after the first phase of rebuilding was completed. It opens Arcadia Bay up to a potential lawsuit that we can't afford."

 _Damnit! He...he's got a point. I guess I still let my heart go faster than my head sometimes. At least where the issue of the Prescotts are concerned!_

Haydock laid a hand down on the table. "I'll draw up some initial agreements. Steven, you need to deal with the fact that Sean's gonna have to pay to play. He gave up almost all his remaining goodwill the day he left this town to swing in the wind, and his history of abusing his power _will_ count against him." And Chloe? We are not going to financially draw and quarter this man, either. We can only push it so far; if we turn him into a public whipping boy, it gives the town a bad name with the business community, which like it or not, he still has significant pull with. I suspect neither of you are going to be completely happy with the final product, and by that token, it'll probably be a decent compromise. So, are we done here?"

Chloe nodded. "Yeah...yeah all right. I mean, don't give away the fucking store, Chris, but...yeah."

Her faith in the town manager had, except on rare occasion, been more or less rewarded. There were times they didn't see eye to eye, but 'fair' was definitely a descriptor she could comfortably apply to him.

 _Heh. Go figure. The old Chloe would be kicking my ass for 'selling out'._

Exeter was far less pleased, crossing his arms, and sighing once. "Fine. But let's not do anything we'll regret. After all." He glared at Chloe. "The hard working job creators of this community need to have something left in their pockets after funding Alderman Price's socialist pipe dreams."

Haydock rubbed at the bridge of his nose, and breathed out. "Jesus...Christ. Steven, give it a rest! Those 'socialist pipe dreams' just paid for half the cost of the new junior high." With that, he pushed himself up from his seat and walked out, signalling an abrupt and terribly informal close to the meeting.

Grant glanced around, then spoke up, "I propose we adjourn this meeting?"

"Ugh! Seconded!" Toller peevishly chimed in.

"All opposed? Alright folks. See you next week."

Chloe rose up from her chair.

She tried to wait until she turned fully away from Exeter before smiling.

 _See Steve-o, it sounds like a compromise, but in the end, I still mostly win. Had to intentionally shoot high to give Haydock some wiggle room. But I'll be fucking damned if you assholes ever take over_ MY _town again!_

* * *

Chloe leaned back at the desk in the small office she shared with Grant, propped her booted feet up, and placed the tip of her flashlight sized personal vaporizer up to her black painted lips. Taking a luxurious drag, she breathed out a heavy cloud of mist, briefly causing the room to smell like chocolate and menthol.

"Believe a small and petty man once said: 'If this were a dictatorship, it would be a heck of a lot easier...as long as I'm the dictator. Heh heh heh.'"

Grant shook her head with disdain, though she still gave a smile. "Oh Chloe. I'm glad you're on our side. I know you say that sort of thing in jest but...don't let it get to your head, okay?"

Taking another drag, Chloe smiled, bending back until her head was almost upside down as she looked at the other woman. "Yes, Obi Wan! We must not fall to corruption!"

Laughing at this, Grant was trying to finish up some of her paperwork as quickly as possible. "Huh. Still...have to admit. The thought of Sean Prescott squirming, and having to actually face the consequences of what he did to this town, how he ran it like his own personal domain." She shook her head again. "I should probably worry about you corrupting me. Never been a fan of your brand of smash mouth politics, even though you've often got the truth on your side - but you seem to be making it work. For now."

"Come to the Chloe Side." the now former blunette playfully droned. "We have cupcakes!" She paused, and then rose back up in her chair. "But no sweat, Ms. Grant. Believe me, I appreciate you keeping me grounded. And it's not like we always win. Look at what happened with the security cameras going into Blackwell. Ah...sorry I had to stay out of that fight."

"Hmmmm. First off, Chloe, it's Michelle now. I appreciate you feeling like you have to show me that measure of respect, but I'm not your teacher anymore. Second..." she sighed heavily. "That whole argument was lost the moment Blackwell made the mistake of allowing psychopaths to run around with a free hand." She shook her head sadly. "Your father...he may have had a point, damn him. We lost the battle, but there's still the war to fight."

"Yeah." Chloe breathed out. "The never ending struggle between good and evil. Hmmmph." She looked up instinctively, towards the framed picture of Max up on one of her shelves.

 _Wish you could have seen it, Max. Wish...you could see how we're doing now. It still hurts, you telling me to stay here...but maybe you had a point. Fucking hell, but maybe you had a point._

"So," Grant said, disrupting Chloe from her reverie. "How is she?"

"Huh? Wha? Who?"

The alderman-slash-science teacher gave Chloe a meaningful look. "You know who. Max. I swear, Chloe. Explain to me again why you're still here, and she isn't? Or why you're even here at all? You two were practically a real life fairytale romance. Best friends since childhood, come together in the wake of tragedy. I...I understand she had difficulties afterwards. Lord knows, I empathize...but...but you two are still talking at least? Please tell me _that_ much is happening."

"Ummm...yeaaaah. Yeah. We are. Believe it or not."

That was much true, for the most part. They'd stayed in close, almost daily contact for the first six months. Still devoted to the notion of getting back together, that Max's absence was just a temporary arrangement, a way for her to heal, get her head on straight. That eventually, she'd come back to Arcadia Bay, ready to be together once again. Better adept at putting to rest the guilty ghosts of the past.

But the inevitable eventually occured. Max and Chloe both became tied up with their various lives. Their heavy school workloads; Max with her project trips, Chloe with having to hold down two jobs while living with her parents in order to afford school while saving up money for the future. While Chloe kept her social media presence to a carefully controlled and narrow range owing to her political career, Max blossomed with a vengeance. Chloe devoured all the developments voraciously, as she watched something truly remarkable happen from afar.

Max was thriving. Making friends, finding acclaim. Academic triumph, artistic respect. She seemed to meld into the weft and warp of San Francisco. Their contact diminished as the years rolled on. Phone calls became less frequent, before stopping entirely. The time between contact increasing ever onward.

And then, six months ago, Chloe suddenly reached a single, inescapable conclusion.

 _I've lost her. I've lost her to San Francisco. She is..._

 _...my angel. One who's finally found her Paradise._

"Oh really?" Grant said. "How long since you two last talked?"

"Three months. Three months ago, she ah...yeah...I got an email." Chloe answered.

Three months earlier, Max began to reach out to her anew, with increasing frequency. At first, testing the waters. Asking pointed questions. Did she miss her? Was she seeing anyone? Maybe they could...?

"She asked me to maybe think about coming out, and visiting her in San Francisco."

"Oh child, and you're still standing around in this town why?" Grant asked incredulously.

Taking yet another draw from her vaporizer, Chloe blew out, "She's back where she belongs, Ms. G. My angel is soaring. It...it's better that way. I always prefered to watch her from below. She uh...she was always the...I don't know how to say it? Destined for greater things? More talented? More pure of heart. Stronger, though it took her a while to remember that."

She took her feet off the desk, and wheeled around to meet her former teacher, eyes forward. "I mean, sure...I've done okay for myself. Honestly? Better than I ever imagined. But...ah...my trajectory is kind of a slow one. Maybe someday I move on. Maybe Chris takes me under his wing, and I find another city in need of a manager after he tells me his secrets of how not to kill people who disagree with my superior logic." She winked at that.

Continuing, Chloe opined. "But me and Max back together?"

Her heart ached, protesting the pragmatic conclusion that Chloe recently reached.

 _I will always love you, Max. Always. Love is why I'm letting you go. Love is why I haven't bothered answering your emails. Why I'm keeping you at arm's length. Even...even though it's fucking killing me!_

"She can only pull me up. And more likely, I can only pull her back down." Chloe bowed her head, softly concluding Gotta let her fly, Ms. G. Gotta let my angel fly."

Grant snorted in mock disgust, tilting her head to the side and crossing her arms. "Chloe?"

"Yes'm?" she murmured, twirling the vaporizer in her fingers, trying to smile through the obvious ache eating away at her heart.

"You were one of my smartest students. I know the reason you got kicked out is because you let your life circumstances drag you down, and you refused to apply yourself as some kind of act of rebellion. That can happen to the best of us. But God's sake, for such a bright and talented girl, you can be such a dummy sometimes!" The older woman's lips pulled into a crooked smile, softening the blow.

Chloe sighed, rising up and taking the framed picture in her hands. She'd printed it out from one of the images Max put up last year on her Tumblr page.

 _So happy! Alive! More than I've ever seen her. I...can't..._

"...can't risk it. Won't." she whispered. "I love her. I promise you I do. But if I put myself back into her life, it...would be selfish. Dragging her down to her doom. Won't do that to her." She placed the photo back. "Someday, she'll find someone else...someone who..."

The weight in her heart surged to an unbearable pain. Caused her hands to tremble.

"Look," Chloe began, in a tight, choked voice. "I gotta go. Just enough time to get home and changed for my _real_ job. See you 'round next week, for chapter six million of The Struggle Eternal. I'll - I'll tell Max you said hi."

She started to quickly walk out, only to be stopped by Grant calling after her.

"Chloe! Look...you serious about this whole romantic martyrdom and self-sacrifice? Fine. But for damnit, level with her. Be honest. Don't go pulling this 'ghosting' bullshit, or whatever name tyou kids today have for this kind of behavior. It's not fair to you, and it's especially not fair to her!"

 _Shit. She's right. Oh fuck, she's so right._

"Hmmm...still giving out homework again, huh?" Chloe bowed her head, but smiled sadly. "Sure. I'll give you a report next week."

With that, she was gone.

* * *

Chloe smirked sadly as she plopped the helmet onto her head and mounted Jezebel, her custom painted black and purple Suzuki Hayabusa. Far and away, a ridiculously overpowered street bike for her commuter needs, but it was a hell of a lot of fun to drive! Opening the throttle up on the country highways and taking those turns...

Not to mention that it was all part and parcel of her public image. The People's Punk Princess simply didn't settle for a reasonable compact car. It was her one splurge over the past three years. Besides...

 _...not like I need the truck. I don't have anyone to give rides to. Not anymore._

She lost herself in thought as she sped along the streets, taking the long way home in order to give herself just a few minutes more to mull over what she was going to do, what she would say, with regards to this whole appointed task of letting Max go for her own good.

Maybe opening up with Shakespeare's Sonnet Fifty-Seven. It was a good one. She framed in her room not long after Max left.

 _Being Your slave, what should I do but tend_

 _Upon the hours and times of Your desire?_

 _I have no precious time at all to spend,_

 _Nor services to do, till You require._

She groaned softly, and muttered to herself. "Christ, Chloe. Don't do it in a letter. If you're serious, if you want to show Max that she'd be making a mistake by coming back here and settling for you...woman up, and talk to her personally!"

A phone call. She could handle that much. Actually having to come face to face with Max would probably break her. The dam of her heart was already fit to burst, protesting at the bitter, pragmatic decision she was making.

 _Has to be this way. Hell, for all I know, she's probably come to the same conclusion. Probably been asking me to come out there so she could tell me herself, because she still can't stand the thought of coming into Arcadia Bay. Too much pain for her here. Too many ghosts._

She rolled slowly by the animal shelter that Frank owned. People made jokes, about being surprised he wasn't running the pot shop, but he was out of that racket. Not that he was a straight-edger, but anything to do with the drug trade was too painful a memory now. Still, he had a particular set of skills that lay elsewhere, and applied himself in a successful fashion, in a job that made him happy.

 _Fucking good for you, man. Max'd...she'd probably like to visit you and the dogs, if nothing else._

Everywhere she passed, things were still bright, shiny and new. Rebuilding almost an entire town let people plan ahead. A lot of wires for phone, cable and electricity were now buried underground, resulting in a far less cluttered landscape. The new roads were still in good repair, the lightposts partially solar-powered and LED based. Hell, with the fiber optics alone, Arcadia Bay had better internet than most of the United States.

 _Definitely Arcadia Bay 2.0. So cool..._

She glided onto the driveway at 44 Cedar Avenue. The house there was so similar to and yet entirely unlike the one it supplanted. The same basic shape, but with siding instead of paint, and a wider, more sloped roof on the south-facing approach for the solar panels. Still so much that evoked the old style and feel, and yet just enough that screamed "I'm different!"

 _Kinda like one of those alternate realities Max would tell me about._

These days, she was still living at home, saving as many pennies as she could while putting herself through school. Her parents...

 _Heh, did I just think of David as a parent? I guess so. Guess I have for a while..._

...were cool enough to let her crash in the upstairs bedroom. At least until she was done with her Bachelor's degree in another year or so.

And then? She'd have to figure out what to do with the rest of her life. Just on her own, for the first time in...years. If not ever.

She slowly dismounted, took her helmet off, and glanced down in one of the side mirrors.

 _...don't..._

A tiny voice inside her mind begged.

Chloe frowned, growling softly at herself. "Shut up, stupid me. Fairy tale endings...are for fairy tales!"

 _Ugh. That sounded so much better in my head!_

Well, she didn't need to figure it out now. Especially when she had to be at her emotion best for her other job: the night maitre'd over at Exarch, the one really fancy restaurant in town.

 _Got the weekend coming up. I'll...I guess I'll psyche myself up and do it then. God...can't believe it's coming to this. But Ms. G. is right. I have to tell her I'm letting her go. She probably figured it out herself by now, but she needs to know for real._

 _Oh Max..._

She rubbed the tears out of her eyes. "S-stop it. Okay. No more. Not tonight."

She reached into the mailbox and pulled out the usual generous helping of mail. Technically, she'd prefer her constituents to send letters to her office at the town hall, but some folks made a habit out of mailing them directly to her home address, and she'd not really been of the mind to dissuade people from that sort of thing. It was a point of pride that she made herself as accessible as possible to the voters.

She walked through the door and softly called out, "Hey - I'm home!" She coughed to clear out the catch that tightened up in her throat.

She walked over to the living room, half-engrossed in reading one of the letters, and going through her share of the bills, leaning down to kiss Joyce on the forehead. "Hey Mom." She glanced around, and murmured. "Huh. Where's the big guy tonight?"

Joyce returned a peck on Chloe's cheek and murmured. "Oh, David'll down in just a minute, dear" She rolled backwards, heading over towards the dining room table. In the years since being confined to a wheel chair, she'd become a real pro at getting around. It still galled her that she couldn't return to waitressing, but she found work at the local library. Supplementing that with learning medical dictation and doing that work freelance at home, she'd managed to carve out a new niche career for herself, just enough to keep her off total disability, which was a personal point of pride for her. But what most impressed Chloe was that she got into wheelchair rugby, playing in the one county team.

 _You'd never think my sweet old mom would mix it up in there, but damn does she get mean on the field. Heh heh._

"So, how'd the meeting go this week? You manage to keep fighting the good fight, baby?" Joyce asked.

Chloe sighed heavily, still engrossed in her letters. "God, Mr. Johnson, how many times I gotta tell you we can't make your hoarded piles of junk a historical landmark..." She blinked, and then gazed over. "Oh? Huh. Good. You know, Steven Exeter is still an asshole obsessed with helping his lord and master take over again, but I think Chris is more tired of his shit than he is of mine. Long and short, Sean Prescott's probably coming back in, but not without having to pay the piper bigtime. Ah. Not as much as _I_ would have liked but..." She threw her hands up gently, shrugged. "Look, Mom, I can't fight everyone's battles single-handed. Folks have to decide if they want to keep the community they now have, or if they want to go back to the bad old days."

Joyce smirked. "Well, I'm sure you must feel like Don Quixote tilting against the windmills some days...except you actually get things done, darlin'. But...but." She held up a finger. "Arcadia Bay doesn't live or die on the shoulders of Chloe Price."

Chloe grumbled. "..know that, Mom."

Joyce rolled her eyes and laughed once. "Do you really now? Oh honey...just...people around here know the score. Memories may be short for some of them, but it'll be a long, long time before they forget what happened after that storm: who stayed and fought for Arcadia Bay, and who left. Have some faith in them. Maybe start thinking about a life for yourself, outside of this sleepy little town."

"Not so sleepy anymore, and sheesh! I'd almost think you were trying to push me out of the house or something!" Chloe said with a wink.

"What, and give up my own personal Alderman?" Joyce joked in return. "Ah, sounds like your step-father's coming down."

Chloe went back to pouring over the mail, acting disinterested as David walked into the living room. He was dressed in full police officer regalia, smiling quietly and held out his arms in presentation.

"Well, Chloe. Do you notice anything different?" he asked.

Still acting like she could barely spare him a glance, Chloe slowly drifted over towards him, keeping her eyes on the letter clutched in her hand. She paused for a few seconds, and murmured. "Uhhh...dunno. You ah...you do something different with the hair? New shoes?" She kept it going for another few seconds, knowing by now exactly just how far she could playfully tease her step-father without pushing too far. Suddenly, she tossed all the mail in her hands carelessly over her shoulder, her voice brightening up by leaps and bounds.

"Or maybe it's the fact that they finally made you a beat cop after all that hard work and effort!" She cried out, wrapping her arms around him tightly.

He beamed quietly, "The-the anger management and group therapy helped. A lot. And...and your Mom...and. You've been an inspiration for me, Chloe. Every time the going got rough, or I considered quitting, I just thought about how. How proud I wanted to make you."

"Well...mission fucking accomplished, Big D." She held out a fist, one arm still hugging around his waist. David bumped his fist back, and the two of them laughed.

"You know what sucked though?" Chloe remarked. "Chief Gordon 'accidentally-on-purpose' dropping the news in my lap three days ago while I was in my office going over the updated zoning regs for next fiscal year, and then I had to pretend I didn't know before tonight! Tell him he pulls that kind of thing on me again, and...and...I don't know. I'll give _you_ his pension! That'll get him to take me seriously!"

David laughed lightly. "Whoa. Glad I'm on your good side!"

Chloe just smirked.

 _God. Look at us, David. Look at us now. How fucked up is it that we just about hated each other, a little over three years ago. Now, I almost feel like I could actually...actually call you Dad. I don't know how that would make you feel, I sure as shit don't know how it would make_ me _feel but..._

In much the same way that the events of the last three years had torn Chloe down and completely rebuilt her as a person, so too had her step-father experienced the same dramatic transformation. Chloe wasn't blind, however. In some other world, where such extreme and incredible circumstances never came to pass, chances were good neither of them grew up, evolved the way they did, and they probably still kinda sorta mostly despised each other.

 _So hella thin, that line between love and hate. How hard it can be to get some empathy and understanding going between two people._

Chloe realized that this was yet another shining example of how the storm, despite all of the death and misery that initially surrounded its wake, made things better in Arcadia Bay, and the lives of many who lived there. Sweeping away the rot, leaving behind the best.

 _Damn shame when the day comes, and people start to take everything we've built for granted. Geeze. Twenty three years old, and such a fucking cynic._

She blinked and glanced at the clock on the living room wall. "Oh! Shit...s-sorry. I really...I gotta get dressed, and ready to do my shift over at Exarch. But...but while I'm there, I'm totally gonna reserve a table for you guys this weekend, and we'll all get together and celebrate. My treat and everything, okay?"

"Chloe! I called ahead and talked to Janice. Reminded her that she still owes me a favor, so she's going to cover your shift tonight." Joyce answered.

"Ohhhhh geeze. Mooom." Chloe laughed softly, shaking her head. "Fine! We'll celebrate _tonight_ then. Just let me get upstairs and put on something nicer, okay? It's Tuesday, so we should be able to get a table without a reservation.

"Alright. You go right on upstairs, Chloe." Joyce said, in a voice that sounded like she knew something more than she was letting on.

David joined in. "And take your time. Don't hurry back down on our account."

Gathering up the papers she earlier threw onto the ground, Chloe ascended the staircase to the second floor, muttering, "That...is weirdly and suspiciously specific guys. There a pony upstairs or something weird waiting for me? Because I'm over that phase now. Not that the idea of pony ownership still isn't hell-amazing."

Chloe opened the door to her room, once again engrossed in one of the letters, sent to her on pink kitten-themed stationery. She groped around through her closet with the other hand, realizing that she should probably be focusing on actually looking inside and finding her red blouse but she read on with increasing frustration and disdain.

"Oh for...fuuuuucks sake. Mrs. Johenkis, for the last time, cats can't legally vote! And...not about to push for a ballot question allowing them to...ugh!"

A voice playfully asked. "Long day at the office, dear?"

Chloe jumped; again, papers spilled over the floor, as she nearly fell into the closet.

"Holy! Fucking...shit!" She gazed over, unable to believe that she'd been so engrossed in her mail that she totally missed the fact that sitting on her bed, legs crossed, looking like the cat who ate the canary, was...

"M-max!? Oh my God!"

Chloe knew that there'd been some changes over the years. Still tried to follow her various social media accounts, even if it made her feel a bit like a creepy stalker type. But the reality of seeing her, in her room, in the flesh, was entire dimensions different than in online pictures.

Max rose up, letting Chloe get a good look at her. Earlobes full of rings, a nasal stud piercing. A sleeve tattoo down her left arm, of a morpho butterfly exploding out into smaller and smaller versions of itself, all different colors of the rainbow. Her hair cut into a fauxhawk, dyed blood red. A leather miniskirt, short but not obscenely so, along with high-mesh fishnet stockings, knee high Doc Martin boots. a black silk spaghetti strap top, and a red led leather bolero jacket. Add to that, all the rings, bangles and jewelry, and then fingerless gloves...

...she was a Goddess. A punk-hipster Queen of Queens. And it wasn't just the clothes she wore, or the incredible perfume that she had on, the one making Chloe feel dizzy and lightheaded in the best way possible. There was an aspect about her bearing, an aura really. She exuded confidence. She was both regal and charmingly accessible. Her easy, wide smile lit up the entire room, and it threatened to completely overwhelm Chloe's heart.

She could feel herself trembling, standing as she was so close to - could she still call Max her girlfriend? She was weak in the knees, waves of giddy delight thrumming up and down her body, and pooling between her legs and over her chest. She felt utterly helpless in the other woman's presence; glamoured, as if Max was more than human. Possessed presence truly supernatural.

"H-hi." was all Chloe could say, in a quavery voice.

Max reached out to stroke her face, and asked. "Do I get a hug? Or do you have secret service people who jump me if I touch you, now?"

Chloe wrapped her arms around her precious angel before she consciously realized what she was doing Inhaled her scent and struggled to stay standing.

 _Okay...this...this is not going well. At all. Also? This is absolutely the most amazing thing ever._

Max relaxed, nestling into Chloe's embrace.

"Annnnd...do I get a kiiiiiss?"

Chloe's cheeks flushed, and she pulled back a bit, stammering. "M-max. Iiii...ahhhh. Really glad you're here. So surprised. I mean, don't take it the wrong way, but what are you doing here?"

Max sighed gently, crooking her mouth to the side."I came here because it was obvious you weren't coming to me. I mean, I probably should have been more upfront about it. Really...really wanting you to visit." She paused. "Okay, with you, I probably should have written it down on a two by four and then hit you upside the head with it."

"S-so you came to me? G-good...I mean...this isn't too...too hard for you and...being back here? In Arcadia Bay?" Chloe stammered.

Max pulled back a bit, but held Chloe's hands in her own. "I'm...I'm doing alright. It's a challenge. But a good one. I spent a lot of hours, over a lot of years, working through my issues. But Chloe? I _am_ back. Just like I said I'd be. Just like I was working towards. Always my goal. Us. Back...for you and me." She bit down on her lip, then asked softly. "Please tell me you haven't moved on?"

Chloe bowed her head, shaking it in tiny, quick motions. "No! No Max. I haven't. Not sure I ever could but...but I...I did have good reason for not responding. For putting off talking to you...funny thing, Ms. Grant, who says hi by the way, convinced me less than an hour ago that i needed to talk to you about it at last. And...and here you are!"

She brushed back the hair from her face, and softly concluded. "Weird, huh?"

Max hmmmed, glanced down at the floor for a moment, and then back up to her.

"So..." she let go of Chloe's hands, walked back over to sit on the edge of the bed, and patted a spot next to her.

"Come here, Che. Sit down. Tell me what's going through your head? I...I really need to know. Please?"

Chloe took a deep breath. It hurt through her chest, aching like dull blades across her ribs. As she drifted step by step, still not fully believing that Max was with her, in this room, she found herself agonizingly torn between two primal instincts: telling Max how desperately, truly, madly, deeply she still wanted her...and convincing her that she was absolutely the last thing Max needed in her life.

 _Oh God...how do I do it? I...I guess we're about to find out._

* * *

 **A/N:** First off, check out the new cover image! My very first fan art like ever in my whole entire life! Awesome reader **LilyGHall** done did it, and I loves it! It's a political poster for Chloe, which should obviously make sense, given this chapter. If you want to see it in all its spendiferous glory, check out:

bit. ly/1S8yXwb

(You need to remove the space between the bit and the ly, because of FFN's stupid antispam code)

Also? I seem to have acquired a Tumblr. It followed me home one day, and now I can't get rid of it. I blame **Rowanred81.** The link I posted above will get you to it. Feel free to follow me, or something. If you have nothing better to do. I assure you, it will get little use ;)

Speaking of Ro I originally stole the name Jezebel from him, which I believe is what he named Chloes Vespa in Metamorphosis. I nearby declare that in all universes that Chloe has a motorbike, that is what she names it!

I wasn't originally planning on leaving this chapter on a cliffhanger but OMG, it just kept building and building and building. It was going to be way huge if I didn't put in a break somewhere. We'll get to the obvious hot monkey sex next time around ;-)

Have a good day/night!


	6. Chapter 6

" _Come here, Che. Sit down. Tell me what's going through your head? I...I really need to know. Please?"_

That was a complicated question for Chloe to answer.

For instance, the primal lizard part of her brain was hard at work getting the rest of her to accept the action plan it just submitted:

 **FOR YOUR CONSIDERATION:**

 **1\. Agree to everything Max says or wants.  
** **2\. No really, just fucking do it already!  
** **3\. Proceed to lay her down on bed.  
** **4\. Remove clothing, preferably ripping off with teeth.  
** **5\. HOT. MONKEY. SEX!  
** **6\. Repeat step five as needed/able.**

 **Remember: proper hydration is essential!**

Never before had her heart and her brain been at such loggerheads.

Of course she wanted to be with Max! Of course Chloe would love nothing more than to live happily ever after with her. Oh God, she could just break down in tears from the weight of her need!

But of course, four years ago, Chloe's natural preference was to _not_ have time wiped out so that she would be shot to death in a bathroom by Nathan Prescott, either. To die, ignorant of Max's love, that Rachel would be avenged, or the knowledge that in this life, that there was something miraculous out there. Beyond the clinical explanations of science or easy assumptions of magic. Something larger than any one person. But she was ready to lay down her life, if it meant averting the storm and saving the town.

Point being, there were things more important to consider than the desires of one singular, solitary Chloe Price.

She took a deep, quavery breath, and glanced over to Max with sad eyes, buffered by a soft smile.

"In my heart, nothing's changed. I still want you. Hell, seeing the way you've grown, transformed. Become..." she laughed, shaking her head. "That brilliant butterfly you were always meant to be. It makes the ache for you so much stronger."

Chloe watched as Max gave a pained smile of her own before the other girl reaching up to cup her cheek; another few seconds, and she was stroking her face and hair. Chloe wanted to do nothing more in that moment then lay back and revel in the sensation. A years-old hunger, etched deeply in her body and soul, was forcefully stirred awake. She leaned in to the caress.

Max whispered, "Getting mixed messages here, Che."

Chloe groaned low in her throat. "I know. I know! I'm...sorry. Hell, _I'm_ getting mixed messages from myself!" She huffed out before continuing, "Alright. I'll just - just say it: I'm scared, Max. So damn terrified. For you. I remember everything you went through, what being here after the storm did to you. I know it was rough, I know it was sudden and..."

Max swallowed, leaning in closer before interrupting, "...Chloe...just want to say, first off, how sorry I am for walking out on you the way I did. I still needed to get out of Arcadia Bay, and I still...oh God, I see how much I was right in asking you to stay here. How badly this town really needs you. But...I...I don't know." She laugh-sobbed. "I could have handled it better. Bad enough I fell back into old habits after the first year, falling out of touch. And I let you do the same. I know I should have talked to you that night, not just at you, before I suddenly picked up and left..."

Chloe shook her head vehemently. "You were dying, Max! Literally, in so many ways! You came back for me, after those first couple of weeks after the storm, for my sake. When honestly, you shoulda run away. Never given coming back a second though."

"How...how the hell could I?! I didn't come back for Arcadia Bay. I came back for you. I knew this town was just...you know...part of the package." Max replied, sniffling softly.

Giving a light but rueful frown, Chloe nodding, "I guess we are. Guess that's true. And I'm fine with that. If God came down and told me my mission was to do right by this town for the rest of my life, I'd accept that. Gladly. But that doesn't mean you should be weighed down by _my_ obligation. Or more..." Her voice lowered, almost to a breathy whisper, "...you feeling like you're obligated to come back and be with me..."

"What...the hell are you talking about?!" Max asked, hurt and disbelieving.

Chloe winced. "I spent all those years watching you from afar. I wasn't there personally for a lot of your struggles, not after we started drifting apart. But I could just imagine what you were doing. The ways you were recovering, making yourself better. The..." She gave a quiet laugh, "...the ass you were kicking. I watched you as much as I could online, Max. I saw enough to know. You didn't just figure out how to live again when you hit San Francisco...you thrived! Motherfucking blew up! And then when Art Institute started showing you off, and screaming "Hey world! Look at this woman. Look at her first show! We don't need to tell you to remember her name because soon, you won't forget it now!"

She reluctantly pulled herself away from Max's gentle caress, wrapping her arms around herself as if freezing. "Th-that's when I knew the nightmare was over for you. You'd finally beaten back the demons. And that was when I knew I didn't want you coming back here again...didn't want the ghosts of the old town to get a second chance to destroy your brilliance. Kill your beauty inside."

Tears fell freely, her voice thick with emotion. "You're my gift to the world, Max." Chloe looked up at her, black kohl streaming down her cheeks. "Just like I wanted you to be that gift, the night of the storm. Back when I was ready to give you...give it all up. J-j-just...like I'm ready to do now." She shook with constrained sobs, bowing her head down low.

Max wrapped her arms around her tight, nuzzling at the back of her neck. In a far away voice, Chloe could hear herself beg, "Just...just please go. Get away. Cant stand the thought of this town getting a second crack at you. I love you too much to risk that!"

Taking a deep breath, and squeezing her close, Max replied, "Chloe. Oh God, Che. I-I think in some ways, I've finally gotten over that night, but you haven't. You just were better at walking it off. Better at hiding the wounds. You're so close to making peace, but still...you've got your own scars, ones that still need to heal."

Max stroked her sides tenderly, "But baby? You're just too damn good at playing the martyr now; you don't know how to stop. Even if I walk out that door right now... _like I ever could?!_ " she hissed in disbelief. "There'd still be that hurt inside you. That broken part that didn't want to die, no matter what you might say or think. That scared, guilty piece that still wants to save everyone that you were forced to watch die. I know, because I was there with you. I mean...we both suffered the same trauma, we just processed it differently."

Chloe listened numbly, as Max kissed her neck and ears, before continuing. "I watched you too, you know? I've seen what you've done for this town. And you know, we're taught to believe that everyone is special, but guess what? It's a lie. _Anyone_ can be special, but not everyone ever will be. You rose to the challenge, you kicked asses when almost everyone else was too scared, petty or selfish to bother. I mean, fuck! You practically held this town together with your bare hands! You were the pebble in the lake making waves no one else would. At first, I though you were MY gift to Arcadia Bay." Chloe's face was tilted up, as Max forced her to meet her gaze. "But...but I realized in the end that it was just a loan! Just fucking sharing!"

Max leaned in, kissing her, hard and fast, then growled, "I watched you turn this place into something amazing. Something people haven't seen in a long damn time: a symbol of hope. Something that says: the future is going to be okay. That we don't have to look towards tomorrow with fear, or dread or disgust. And...and I always imagined that everything you did, every house you built, every law you passed, was a tribute to me."

Max hugged her with desperate possessiveness, as she continued, "But all the hours I spent in talk therapy, and going through weekly EMDR sessions, and meditating, all the long nights I spent studying, all the days I devoted to torturing myself to obtain the perfect shots for my first public show? Ever fear holding me back that I confronted, every voice in my head that said 'don't' or 'can't' that I smothered into silence? Yeah, I did it for me, because holy shit I needed to find myself! But more than that, it was _my_ tribute to _you_! I wanted to make myself worthy of you, of your achievement and creation and...and ability...and..."

Now Max was in tears, trembling, rising up from the bed, her hands animated with emotion, as she scolded, pleaded, demanded, "You always called me your angel! If that's true Chloe, then don't turn me away now! Because you...you're my Heaven! And I'm sorry that it took me this long to get back to you, baby. But-but that was always the plan. I was always gonna fight, every day, to get back."

Chloe could barely see through tears and makeup. She was close to breaking now, so carefully balanced upon the razor thin precipice. She was losing her heart completely, and damn well knew it. It was all over but the...well no, there was already crying. It was all over then, except actually speaking the words.

Still, her deep seated doubt make one last desperate plea; it would not simply retire into eternal oblivion.

"You'll always have my heart, Max." she cried almost inaudibly. "J-just...don't want it to be an anchor around your neck."

Max took a few steps back, suddenly smirking like a huntress about to spring the snare. "Funny you should say it like that, Che." She shrugged off her jacket, letting it land behind her with a soft thump. Carefully reached down, gripping the loose top and slowly removed it, with an almost decadent sway of her hips as she revealed herself, bare-chested. She was small enough in the bust that she could easily get away with not wearing a bra all the time.

It wasn't just the sight of Max half-naked that caught Chloe's eye; there may not have been much in the way of sex between them before Max left, but they'd shower together, or sleep together naked sometimes. No, it was the tattoo, still bright and fresh, that demanded her attention. On the underside of her left breast: a red heart surrounded by chains of orange flame. In black, the word "Chloe" was written in filagree script.

Max said, "Ever heard of Terence Trent D'Arby? Little before our time but...heard this one song of his at a wine bar a month ago, and I realized what I had to do next. Before I came to see you, show you how seriously I still am, about us."

As she rose and drifted towards Max, Chloe vaguely realized she'd not intend to; she felt as if she lost conscious control of her body, and was now following an ancient, irresistible compulsion, like being drawn in by the tide, pulling her down until she was standing before the other woman. Who took her hand, placing it over the tattooed breast.

Looking up, with a gaze as hard as steel, as soft as velvet, Max asked, "Chloe? Do I have to say the words? Do I have to tell you where I need you to be? Do I have to make you come back to me, the same way I made you stay here?"

Chloe was defeated. Deliciously, deliriously done for. She could literally hear it in her brain, the snap of the last chain of her self-doubt and sense of unworthiness. She glanced down, brushing a gentle thumb over the hardened nipple, smiling almost stupidly to herself as she watched her - yeah, definitely her girlfriend squirm in response.

"No," Chloe breathed out. She swallowed hard, half-lidded her eyes, and breathed in Max's scent again. "But it'd be hella sexy if you did anyway."

Max arched up against her fingers, wrapping arms around her neck. Rested a forehead to her own, and spoke in a voice hard with conviction, making her claim. "You are mine, Chloe Price. I saved you...and saved you again. And again and again and again. Time itself tried to take you away from me, day after day for a whole week. I wrestled Reality to the ground until it finally cried uncle, all to have you for my own. And then...then...I put you here when I had to..."

At this, Max's voice started to crack, the fire in her eyes wavering ever so slightly. "...when there was a - price - to pay." She blushed at her pun, intentional or otherwise. " When fate said 'She's needed in this place now.'. I left you here, so I could go and wrestle my own demons. I fought so hard for this moment. Where I make you mine."

Chloe swooned, Max's breath so hot on her neck now, as she continued, "Four years, Che. Almost four damn years now, since that storm. Since I realized I was falling in love with my best friend. And I was so overjoyed when you felt the same way. So...so you don't get to tell me to leave! You're not allowed to say you can't be with me, that you're not worthy. You don't declare what I can and can't handle." She thumped her chest once. "I do!"

Max reached up, grabbing handfuls of Chloe's blouse, and whispered, her tone shifting from dramatic to playful, trying to keep from giggling. "Can I rip this? I really wanna rip this."

Chloe could barely nod her assent.

Buttons popped off, flying away towards the darkened corners of the bedroom, as Max forced open her top with a flourish, and "Oh! I like the matching black lace underwear. Better than the old whatever-the-hell-was-clean-that-day approach..."

Licking her dry lips, Chloe rasped, "S-see. I've grown as a person..."

A pause hung heavy between them, freezing the moment in time. Their mouths so slowly, magnetically drawn together...

And then they were locked in a frenetic, ferocious kiss, Max tangling both hands in her hair. Chloe leaned the redhead back in a slight dip, one arm wrapped tight about her waist, the other snaking down to cup across her thigh, and over her rear. It wasn't merely a physical need alone; together as one they crossed an emotional breakthrough, demolishing the wall that had kept them apart for too many years. Max quickly pushed her tongue out, tracing lavishly against Chloe's lips, prompting her to part them, gratefully, greedily sucking it in. Together they were coming back from near death, reveling, feasting. Neither entirely certainly where to start on the other.

Chloe broke the kiss, but only long enough to lower her head to Max's chest, languidly tracing the tip of her tongue wetly over the cursive script of her name across the tattoo, before taking a nipple between lips, then teeth. For so many nights, she'd dreamt of something like this; the reality far more heady and intoxicating than she ever imagined. Her lover arched back, letting a hot, liquid moan escape from her throat in grateful joy.

Vaguely, in the back of her mind, the notion briefly occurred to Chloe that maybe they were getting sort of loud, and...and weren't her parents waiting for them, and...?

But then Max was pushing her back, roughly, towards the bed, chasing away all thoughts that weren't immediately focused on the passionate play at hand; things other than 'Too many damn clothes in the way!' or 'God, you smell incredible!' or 'I am so fucking happy this is a front clasping bra!' failed to make the mental cut.

As Chloe landed hard on her bed, Max domineeringly crawled on top, pinning her back. The bra was quickly worked off, and the two of them clung hard to each other, relishing the feel of bare skin on skin. More desperate kisses passed between them, first soft, then hard, then playfully gentle, then savagely devouring.

Chloe was drowning, utterly drowning in sensation, in love, in the moment. It threatened to suffocate her completely; she couldn't be happier.

She whimpered. "...sorry! I'm so sorry!" she cried, leaning up to nestle her face between Max's breasts. Covering her chest in bites, she murmured again. "So...sorry!"

Cradling her head, Max shhhed her softly, lips close close to her ear. "Forgive you...just...don't pull that shit again, Che." With a giggle, she pushed her back from her chest, then rose up from the bed.

Chloe propped herself up on her elbows, smiling drunkenly as she watched Max slip out of the skirt and shimmy off her panties, leaving her clad only in the boots and stay up stockings. Crawling back onto the bed, she gave a knowing smile. "Hope you don't mind me keeping them on; not about to try and unlace these huge things right now."

Chloe laughed breathily, "I-I-I like the look. S'hot! Hardcore!"

 _Wow, she uh...she shaved! Umm..well...duh? I guess she knew how things were gonna go. Never had a doubt._

"Glad you think so." Max said. "'Cause I just thought of the best way you can apologize." With a feline wiggle in her hips she crawled up Chloe's body, planting tiny little kisses anywhere she could reach. In short order, she spread her legs, planting a thigh next to each side of her head. Leaning over just a bit, Max whispered out heatedly, though she blushed as she spoke, "Figured uh - like - you had a little more experience than me? As in any because - um..because of the time you and Rachel...?"

Chloe tilted her head, and bit down, not hard, but most definitely firm against the flesh of Max's inner thigh, eliciting a gasp of surprise, before replying, "Been a while. Not like we did it all that often but...mmm...we'll figure it out together, yeah?" Lifting her head up, Chloe starting to place exploratory kisses against the soft petals presented before her. Slipped her tongue out, tip parting the labial folds, before instantly seeking out the stiff bud of the clit.

Max reached down, shuddering and hissing in approval, as she lowered her body down further, while grabbing at Chloe's raven hair. Chloe in turn took her time, exploring unhurriedly, relishing the new experience for both of them. It was only a scant few minutes before she began to lap against her in earnest, in happy, heartfelt worship of her angel, her Goddess.

 _Christ...what a fucking fool I was! What a mistake I almost made!_

* * *

 **A few minutes earlier...**

Joyce smirked as she watched her husband tap his fingers impatiently against the table.

"Okay," he started. "I think we should probably just assume that..."

The a soft moan suddenly reverberated from the second floor. Muffled as it was, its meaning was still unmistakably clear.

"...and now I'm getting really goddamn uncomfortable!" David said with a grimace. "Can we leave now?"

Laughing and leaning in to kiss his cheek, Joyce pushed herself back out from the dining room table where the two of them were waiting. Allowed David to rise up, grip the handles of her wheelchair, push her down the entranceway, and out the door. She'd become rather proud in her refusal over the years to let anyone but him do so. Otherwise, she was insistent on wheeling herself around, and had the arm muscles to prove it.

But this? It was like taking his arm, and walking side by side with him, as they used to do in years past.

"Ah, course we can. Just had to make sure it was gonna take, darlin'."

He shook his head incredulously, snorting. He smiled though, even as pushed the wheelchair over-fast, closing and locking the door behind him.

"Really? Like there was any doubt. I think we both knew that brilliant, idiot daughter of ours didn't stand a chance. All that mopey talk about 'letting my angel fly free' was doomed the moment Max showed up at our door.." he said.

Shifting herself out from the chair into the passenger side car seat, Joyce softly replied. "Well, the two of _us_ still have a reservation at Exarch. And, mind where you put my wheelchair, dear? I packed an overnight bag in the trunk, and booked us a room at a hotel. Just in case. I thought they might like a night alone, and I had the same idea for us."

A minute later, David slid into the driver's seat, leaning over to kiss her, warm and sweet, with a promise of more to come later on.

* * *

Later, much later, Chloe and Max lay on their backs, sheets tangled across them, both their bodies glistening with exertion. Reaching out with a shaky hand to grab the backup personal vape in her bedside table drawer, she inhaled, blowing out thick clouds of mist before lazily handing it over to Max.

"Th-that...was...hella awesome!" she declared, chest heaving, laughing as she spoke the final word. She reached up, touched her cheeks, and laughed again. "Oh God! My face must be such a fucking mess right now."

Max lifted up one of the sheets for a moment, glancing down her body. "Yup. And you should see the black lip prints all over me." she said, before taking a draw on the vaporizer, before blowing out softly over Chloe's face.

She reached up, wrapping one arm around Max's waist, threading fingers in one of her hands, and stealing yet another of a thousand kisses they'd shared this night. Met her eyes and whispered. "So...when do we go back to San Francisco? I'm already composing my resignation letter: Dear Arcadia Bay: Fuck you, fuck this job, quitting to go fuck my girlfriend. Love and kisses, ex-Alderman Price."

Max curled up close to her, caressing her leg with a foot - having finally managed to remove the boots - and kissing the tip of her nose before answering, "Awesome as that epic rage-quit - or is it love-quit? - would be, it's silly. I mean, yeah, hell yeah, I want you to come and visit San Francisco with me. One last time." She pulled back a bit, taking one more inhalation, letting the vapor bleed out from her mouth as she spoke, "Before I move back here."

Chloe just gave her 'A Look' and said, "Oh...God. Why?! I mean, I love this town...love-ish. Okay, I've put together a pretty nice place now, shit knows she was a real fixer upper, but baby, _San Francisco!_ Why would you trade down like that?"

Reaching out to pet Chloe's face tenderly, fingertips tracing over her lips, Max murmured, "Really? Seems more like an upgrade to me. And besides, I can easily hop a flight and in a couple hours I'm back, when I really want-slash-need to visit. I'm in the process of picking up a few freelance gigs, and I can just travel as needed to take care of those. So why not make Arcadia Bay home?" Continuing to play with Chloe's earlobe, skitter fingertips down her neck, she added, "Of course, if you wanted to build me an airport, Alderman, that'd be a big help. For cereal."

Chloe shivered, squirming yet again at the physical contact. She paused to gather the other woman close in her arms, replying, "Yes, Mistress. Immediately, Mistress. I'm sure if we promised to call it the Sean Prescott Is Awesome, Also Cool, And You Should Love Him International Field, Exeter would jump on board with me at the next meeting.

The two of them shared more kisses, unable to get enough of each other. Finally coming up for air, Chloe asked, "So. You're really thinking of moving back, huh?"

Max nodded, "Mmm-hmmm".

"Cool. Well, if you don't mind being cramped for a while, there's no way my folks would say no to you moving in. We'll figure out a plan, and then find an apartment..."

Max interrupted her, "I...kinda had something different in mind, Che. I actually have some money now. Inheritance. My grandma passed away a couple months ago. The one on my Dad's side."

"Oh nooooo! Not Nana Caulfield! Damnit, she was so cool, 'cause she'd give us those chocolates with the booze in them and tell dirty jokes." Chloe mourned, giving Max another hard, loving hug

"Ha ha. Drove my Mom crazy. It's okay, she went in her sleep. Very peaceful, just the way I'd want to go. But yeah, the money isn't enough to ever retire on, but I could either put a sizable down payment on a tiny condo in San Fran, ooooorrrrr, I could probably buy a new house outright, here in town. So you tell me what _you_ would do?"

"I know I'm suppose to say 'the house', but obviously I'd run off to Vegas and blow through it in a weekend, getting treated like royalty.' Chloe said with an impish smirk.

Max gave her a tiny kick. "Oh God, Che, please! I know you want to pretend you're still the same aimless, doesn't give a shit about the world at all punk rock girl from 2013, but...you know that's not you. Not really. Not anymore. " She rested her head on Chloe's shoulder and whispered. "So...so come live with me. And be my love..."

"...and we will all the pleasures prove." Chloe answered, finishing the rest of the Marlow reference. "Wow. Home ownership, huh?"

"Mmm-hmmm. Both of us. Both our names on the deed."

Blinking, and clearly caught off guard, Chloe said, "Uhhh...seriously? Wow, uh, hah. I know enough contract law to know that sort of thing is harder to get out of than marriage these days."

Max pushed her over onto her back, quickly clambering on top and pinning her down against the bed. "And yooooour point?"

With a giggle, she replied. "That it's cool, and awesome, and sweet, and amazing...and so are you."

"Good save. And why wouldn't I share a house with you, in every possible way? I love you, Chloe. I absolutely, whole-heartedly, hopelessly love you."

Chloe was quiet, looking up at Max for a good few seconds. She'd said the words before, and heard them repeated. But it felt different this time; as if it were the first. And it might as well have been, given the new level their relationship achieved tonight..

"That's not fair." she whispered quietly.

Max was clearly taken aback, "Um...not the response I was expecting, Chloe."

Holding up her hands for a moment, she quickly explained, "No, no, I mean...I wanted to be the one, to say it first. I don't know, I just always thought it seemed a little, God, what's the word I want to use? Lame? You say I love you, I say 'I love you, too.' That doesn't sound like I _mean_ it, it sounds like I'm saying it out of expectation. And that's not fair."

She leaned up further, trailing kisses over Max's neck, as she spoke, "What's a phrase that I can respond with, that sums it all up, the way I feel? I mean, how much I adore you. Am in awe of you. Am utterly and hopelessly devoted to you. The way that I know in my heart that each and every day in my life is going to be better than the next, now that you're back in it. The stupid, stupid, _stupid_ way I almost threw it all away earlier tonight, and how grateful I am that you saved me...saved me in..." her throat grew tight. "You've always been my savior, Max. How the hell does a simple 'I love you, too' convey all that?"

Max was smiling, no...she was positively glowing at that. Leaned in to hoarsely whisper, "God. I am so wet for you right now!"

Chloe leaned back, and pointed a finger, "Damnit. See! _That's_ what I should have gone with! Whoa...what are you...?"

Max swiftly dove downward, attacking Chloe with kisses, licks and bites, as she made her way to between her legs. Paused, long enough to look up and say, "I think it's time to find out what kind of teacher you've been." Then reached up, grabbing Chloe's hand tightly in her own.

Laying back the rest of the way, Chloe, breathed out, blushing, "Oh! Uh...hah...well um...something something oral exam, then?"

It was a good minute before Max could stop laughing.

* * *

Three months later, Max and Chloe moved in together, into one of the nicer middle class houses still left for sale on Cherrywood Lane. Done in a modern style, a mix of natural dark woods and neutral grey metal siding, which Max vowed to repaint immediately. A two car garage, raised deck in the rear with a lovely view of the bordering forest, and of course, sloped roofs replete with solar panels. It was nicer, and more expensive than they'd initially planned to buy, but the inheritance was enough of a down payment so as to keep their combined mortgage and property tax payments roughly at or below the rent of many of the newer apartments springing up in downtown. And of course, the folks at the local community bank were practically falling over themselves to give a homeowners loan to Chloe.

 _It's good to be the People's Punk Princess!_

Still, Max decided it might be best if she got some steadier work to supplement her budding freelance career.

"Blackwell! Fucking Christ, sweetie? Are you for real?" Chloe incredulously exclaimed.

As she fiddled with one of her cameras, taking pictures of various angles of their new home, Max replied. "For cereal. They've never managed to find a permanent replacement after all these years. I mean, I'm no...I don't...have the portfolio and cachet that..."

Chloe pulled her girlfriend tight against her, brushing her hair and kissing her repeatedly as she saw the other woman start to freeze up a bit. Asking in whispered tones, "Are you going to be alright with this? That's...that's a hell of a demon to take head on."

Max shook her head defiantly, but clung all the same. "I know. Believe me, I so know. But a lot of the traumatic charge is gone. Pretty sure I could never go back into that fucking bunker, but I'm ready to step into the old classroom. Think there's actually kind of a weird symmetry to it, you know? I help defeat Mark Jefferson, end his career, bring him to justice. And to cap it all off, I replace that asshole as a teacher."

"Like a fucking Highlander." Chloe breathed out.

Max laughed, squeezing back again. "Ye-hah, I guess so. God, you should hear Ray Wells, he's so damn eager for this. I mean, I just graduated, but I guess I'm a lot more professionally trained and acclaimed then the last few folks they've had."

"The position is cursed!" Chloe stage-whispered. "It's like Defense Against The Dark Arts!"

"Ha Ha! Chloe...stop...I'm trying to get this shot lined up right!"

A short while later, Chloe looked down at her motorbike, parked as it was in the garage next to Max's Mini Cooper.

"Well Jez, probably time to set you free, find you another home."

"Why's that?" Max asked, walking in to join her, clearly having overheard.

"Oh...well...you know. It's a one rider sportsbike. Was great when I was a broody bachelorette but I don't ride alone anymore." Chloe turned and gave Max a soft peck on the cheek.

"Mmmmm...why don't you hang on to Jezebel for a while. We've got my car still, and...and besides _I_ ' _d_ like the opportunity to drive her, now and then."

Laughing brightly, Chloe said, "Babe, you sure? This is a Suzuki Hayabusa. A legend. There's a lot of fucking epic power under the hood. Hard to tame."

Wrapping possessive arms around her, Max replied, "Same could be said for you. And I can ride you just fine, Che."

Chloe blushed deeply, and silently nodded.

"Which reminds me," Max mused. "We have one or two rooms left in the house that we haven't had sex in. Feel like crossing those off the list with me today?"

"Yes, Ma'am! Just...uh..just as long as the garage isn't one?"

Max tilted her head. "What? In front of the kids?" she asked, pointing at the motorcycle and the car. "That'd be a little too weird, even for me."

The walk in bedroom closet, however, was perfectly acceptable.

* * *

 ** _A/N:_** Awwww yeah! It's Double-Shot Saturday! An epic blast of awesome, featuring both the return of Black Swan and the latest chapter of Grande Dame, dropping on you at the same time! Never had a chance to do something like this before, probably never will again, so of course I had to!

A few odds and ends and bits of trivia:

As overwrought as this chapter may seem in a few parts, it was far worse in the first draft. Really had to go over this one a few times to try and wrangle it appropriately. Also, I am a shy, giddy thing when it comes to writing lemonyuri. Hope you all enjoyed it.

Second, as someone who has dealt with her own PTSD and depression issues, I cannot recommend EMDR therapy enough. It seems...so hokey and nonsensical on the surface, but it is one of the most instantly, almost spiritual things I've ever seen come out of a technological solution.

Third, the song Max mentioned, "Sign Your Name", is awesome, and should be included in any Pricefield mixlist. Of course, I am older than most of my readers, so of course I have fond memories of songs from 1989...

As much as this may seem like a climax to the series - ha ha ha, pun intended - there is still plenty of story left. I figure it may come off as a long victory lap, but damnit, these two deserve as much. It's been a hell of a ride, over these five episodes of the canon game.

Anyhow, have an awesome Halloween, or All Saints Day, or Dias De La Muertas, or whatever you celebrate around this time of year!


	7. Chapter 7

**February 2018**

"Oh God. It's...it's still the same. The room still looks the same! Like going back in time. " Max whispered softly, with no small amount of dismay in her voice.

Chloe watched as Max winced at her own choice of words, hovering just past the doorway to what would be her classroom; coming in as a mid-term replacement, they'd shown up on the Sunday before her first class began in order to get reacquainted with the space. Find out what was different, and what wasn't. And work on making it Max's.

"Yeah, this was one of the parts of the school that didn't need rebuilding. Go figure." Chloe reached up, gripping and gently massaging Max's shoulders. "But...but Jeffershit's stuff is all gone, sweetie. For years now. Beyond that it's just a room. A room you can hang _your_ stuff up on instead. Start taking it all back."

Max nodded, tried to put on a brave face, but Chloe could feel her trembling, just slightly, beneath her fingers.

"You...you're right." Max softly replied. "But..." she appeared to all but force her feet to carry her towards the desk, towards that corner, where Jefferson held domain for weeks, all those years earlier.

Max lowered herself down at the desk, looking vaguely ill. She closed her eyes and calmed her breath. "God, it's one thing to expect the emotional charge, another to actually encounter it. I never appreciated how much the memory of this room got twisted up in my mind. For a good couple years, even thinking about this place, what it looked like, the way it smelled, could put me into a panic attack." She relaxed, just a little, and murmured softly. "It was the first set of memories that we ran through an EMDR workup when I started seeing my therapist. Okay...okay, this is getting easier, the longer I sit here. The longer I remind myself it's just a room, and he's gone."

She opened up her eyes and stared straight ahead, repeating. "He's gone. This...space is mine now."

Chloe walked over, offering a hand to Max, who took it gratefully, squeezing it.

"If I can handle this place, Chloe, I think I can handle anywhere else in this school. Christ, this is where it all started, you know? Not the bathroom, but here. I had the first dream of the storm in this room. And I came back here when I first tried to change the past to escape from the Dark Room..."

They walked along, glancing at the desks, sizing up the available equipment.

Max looked down, tilting her head as she traced her fingers over one of the tables, "At least they had the decency to replace these. No more...Rachel Amber graffiti, for one thing."

Chloe swallowed, feeling a sick pull in her stomach.

 _Speaking of emotionally charged memories._

It didn't hurt as much, not in the raw, sadistic fashion it did when she came face to face with Rachel's corpse. At the same time, she was never so relieved to not have seen this reminder with her own two eyes. It was yet another example of what Max correctly pointed out to her, the night they got back together: she'd never fully worked through all her trauma and hurt, her feelings of victimization and powerlessness from that time. Not that Chloe was in any mood to seek therapy, but she did her best to acknowledge these 'sore spots' when she came across them, tried to be diligent in communicating with Max as needed

 _The more we talk about what we went through, from our own perspectives, the easier it'll be. The less the pain will be, and the closer it'll bring us together._

The last line caused a smile to form on Chloe's lips, pulling Max into a hug.

"Proud of you, baby. This is weird, to put it lightly. On so many fucking levels. And...and can I just say how screwed up it is? Because the last time we were really here together, you and me, we were committing some heavy duty breaking and entering. Also: grand theft pool. Or, pool joyriding. Joyswimming? Whatever."

Max leaned up, kissing her softly, and murmured. "Second degree larceny." she reminded her.

Chloe rubbed the back of her head and gave a nervous, clipped laugh. "Oh fuck! That's...yeah. Shit. Remind me, seriously remind me when we have money one day to make a five-thousand dollar contribution to this place. Like, an _anonymous_ contribution, but still."

Max giggled lightly, "Che, I think between the insurance and the donations that flooded in from alumni after the storm, that five grand is a forgotten drop in the bucket by now. But..." she reached up, pressing her fingers on Chloe's lips, stifling any protest. "...I understand. It's important to you to settle your past accounts."

Chloe nodded, relieved Max understood. Nibbling her fingertips playfully, before responding. "Yeah. Funny, isn't it? Back then, we were rebels fucking over The Man, acting like we were fighting corruption and that we could cancel out one wrong by committing another." She gave a heavy sigh then looked around. "Baby, when the hell did we grow up? Seriously, sometimes I still look in the mirror and don't recognize myself. Or maybe, I don't recognize who I used to be."

Max pulled her face close, nuzzling at her nose. "I don't know about myself, but I know exactly when you did." She held Chloe's face in her hands, capturing her gaze. "The moment you said, "I'm stopping the truck. We have to look for survivors."

Chloe blinked a few times."Y-yeah. I guess so. Huh. I guess you have a good point. I let any sense of myself go, up on top of that cliff. I really...it's just...I mean it's weird isn't it? We were forced to make this choice, to let me die, and in a real way, the old Chloe Price did just that, at that lighthouse."

"Wow." Max blinked. "Kinda macabre there, don't you think?" She paused, then thought it through. "Actually, no. No, I see your point." She then glanced around. "God. I'm so damn glad we came here. Let myself get used to being here again. Thank you for coming, baby, it really, _really_ helps having you here with me, and there is no way I could have handled this alone for the first time tomorrow."

Chloe smirked, and whispered in against Max's ear. "Gotta stand by my babygirl. Like you even have to ask." She then grabbed Max's hand and said. "Hey! I have an idea. Um...where was your desk? Can you show me?"

Max led her over, a confused expression on her face. Chloe then gently guided her down into a seat, before snagging a chair for herself, pulling it close so the two of them could sit next to each other.

"Chloe? What are you doing, exactly?"

"Uhhh...roleplaying maybe? Call it building up new positive associations and memories and stuff. Like...okay, pretend that we're here. I mean...gah! Shit." Chloe stopped, then tried again. "Of course we're here. But pretend that it's four or five years ago. We're in class together, because this is an awesome alternate timeline where you and I are actually going to school together. Also, we're dating. Also also, we're disgustingly cute about it."

Max gave her a look, like she was totally insane. Then laughed warmly, taking her hand underneath the desk. "Oookay. Huh." She took a breath, and looked out towards the rest of the room. And hey!" she pointed out towards the left side of the room. "There's Victoria, sucking up for credit, and looking at us all weird, acting pissed over how cute we are together, but you know, she's just secretly jealous."

"Of whom?" Chloe asked.

"Both of us, duh!"

Chloe tilted her head and mused. "Oh yeah! Now I see it. And look, there's Kate. Who's playing attention like a good little girl, and not noticing the way that Tori is totally eyebanging her. Always thought there was a universe out there somewhere, where Kate and Victoria are an item."

Max burst out into loud laughter. "Hah! Maybe, but it ain't this one, Che. I'm pretty sure they're both straight. Hella straight."

Chloe leaned back and sighed. "True. Arcadia Bay's only big enough for one lesbian power couple." She winked at Max, and then said, "Oh man. This class...this class just keeps going on and on. I know! Imma send a text!" With that, she slipped out her phone from her blazer pocket, and began to type away one-handed, so she didn't have to let go of Max. It took her a minute or three of effort, but soon, her girlfriend sighed, as she felt her pocket buzz.

"You...just sent me a text? Um...sweetie?" Max leaned in and stage-whispered. "I'm kinda right next to you!" Chloe felt her hand being squeezed for effect.

"Not like we didn't text each other when I was in high school and you were in junior high. Plus, what are we gonna do, pass notes to each other? Even medieval year 2013 wasn't _that_ barbaric."

Max rolled her eyes and glanced at the screen of her phone:

 **AlderAB-Chloe: OMG this teacher sux. so boring! after class, lets go back to yr room & get high, and we can fingerbang 2!**

Max burst out laughing. "Oh my God, Chloe! You have a fricking one track one sometimes!"

Grinning impishly, Chloe whispered, "Yeah, but you know damn well that we'd be like that, if we were dating in high school." She gave a soft sigh."I mean, it's not like we don't do that now. I seem to remember 'Get high and fingerbang' was how we spent most of last weekend."

Max blushed scarlet red down to her chest, bowed her head, and grinned like a loon, muttering, "Y-yeah. That's truuuuuue." She gave another snort-laugh and then leaned in, kissing Chloe quick and firm.

Returning the kiss, Chloe murmured. "There. Now you have at least one new awesome memory in this room. When your crazy horndog girlfriend texted you during class in order to break up the monotony of whatever the hell the teacher was talking about."

Max shook her head. "It sounds stupid, but...but it helps. It really does. You know, maybe there is something to be said about how psychic impressions linger on a place..."

Chloe shrugged, "I think the only impressions are the ones we carry in our heads. Still, look at it this way: every day, bit by bit, whatever negative hold this place has on you, it's going to wash away. And, you know, if I have to come back and play pretend again, and add more memories of our high school romance that never was...then yeah. I'll do that, too."

"Oh my God. Thank you...I love you, Chloe. So much." Max smiled brightly, spirits clearly lifted, as she leaned happily against her side.

"Anything for you, Max. Seriously. Anything. And, you know, maybe later on, in a couple weeks, we can sneak into the room at night and roleplay the new teacher and the hot bad-girl student she seduces and..."

At this, Max gave her arm a light punch. "Oh Jesus, Chloe! Do not even joke about that! That was like the number one craziest seminar I had to attend as part of my teacher orientation. 'Inappropriate student contact.' Uhhhhgg." She hugged herself, shivering.

Chloe blinked. "Fine, I'll be a TA?"

Max just rolled her eyes heavily, and then glanced up, in time to notice...

"...Principal Wells! Good morning." she called out.

"Ah. Max! Getting familiar with the room? I see you've brought some of your work to hang on the walls? Excellent, excellent. Feel free to make this space yours as much as you wish. And please, call me Ray."

Chloe rolled her eyes mentally.

 _Good lord, he's still such a suck up._

She was about to find out how true that was.

"And I see you've brought Alderman Price with you. How long has it been since we last saw each other?"

The pair of them rose up from the chairs as Chloe answered. "Oh. In the fall, I think? That fundraiser dinner at Exarch, right?"

"Yes, yes. Now I remember. Say, Max, I hope you don't mind if I borrow Chloe...do you mind if I call you Chloe? I was thinking some of the students might like to meet you."

 _Holy...fucking...seriously? Dude, you couldn't bounce my ass hard or fast enough from this school way back when, like seven - shit has it really been seven years? Okay, clearly this isn't 'Hi kids! You too can be a screw up and fail out of Blackwell, but still become a political player in this town!' kinda thing. Figure ol' Ray just wants to show off that he knows the Alderman-at-Large. Hate to break it to you dog, but the kids here couldn't care less, especially the out-of-towners._

Still...

...Chloe _was_ something of a public figure now. As much as she might detest Wells' toadying, it wouldn't do not to be at least somewhat magnanimous about it all. And on the bright side, it seemed he was sucking up to her because he still wasn't giving Sean Prescott the time of day after all the shit that went down involving Nathan.

 _Worst part of public service...actually serving the public. Oh well..._

Giving her best friendly-neutral smile, she said, "Not at all. Max, you're okay here?"

It was clear that Max was doing her absolute best not to laugh good-naturedly at Chloe's predicament. She leaned in, kissed her cheek and murmured. "Yeah. Go. Tell the kids they're the future. I'm...I'm a lot better than I was when we got here, thanks. I think I'm definitely ready to put my own mark on this classroom. Starting with..."

Trotting over and reaching into her backpack, she removed a limited edition Hawt Dog Man bobblehead figurine, busying herself with trying to figure out how best to place it on the desk.

Chloe glanced over her shoulder as Ray Wells led her out the door and down the hallway. She was doing her best to immediately tune him out, focusing on Max, and how much happier and at ease she now seemed.

 _Hmmmm...take that Jefferfuck. Your last ghost is getting cast out. Now you've got nothing left, asshole. And Max and I have the whole future in our hands._

She turned back to the Principal and started indulging his desire for small talk as they walked along together.

* * *

 _ **A/N:**_ So this was supposed to have been just a brief opener to a much larger chapter, but as I started writing, I realized that it was taking on a life of it's own. And what Max says is very true, at least for me. Yesterday, I tried going through and playing a new game of Life is Strange, and it's really something, how that virtual space, the starting classroom, now has this strong 'feeling' and 'charge' in my mind. A creepiness, almost darkness, now that I know what's going to happen. And it defintely got stronger, the closer I got to the teachers desk. And I could kind of feel a lot of that charge really starting to shift and dissipate alongside with Max as I wrote this. So anyhow, here's a chapter I wasn't quite intending to write, but it worked itself out on it's own.

Have a good night!


	8. Chapter 8

**May 2018**

"Gotta tell you, Ms. G. I'm getting kinda worried about Chris these days."

Chloe spoke softly, the door to the office she shared with Michelle Grant closed while they held an impromptu private meeting.

"Chloe, for the last time it's...oh! Never mind." The other Alderman shook her head and finally gave up trying to dissuade Chloe from referring to her by her last name. Giving a soft sigh, she continued. "He does seem rather unhappy with the job. And no offense, but I can't blame him, the way you and Steven make his life miserable."

With a gentle groan, Chloe took a sharp drag from her vaporizer, today's flavor du jour being sugar cookies. Breathing out sharply through her nose, savory-sweet clouds drifting around her head, she said, "That's for fucking sure. Not gonna apologize, but you're right. Christian's great at what he does, but what he wants to do is have someone give him a plan, and then he can just get to work crafting and executing the best real world, nuts and bolts approach. Obvious, he didn't sign on to play defacto mayor, but that's what's happened. And...and the town is growing to a point where we need to streamline our executive function. Can't keep having the Council dicker over every little goddamn thing when it comes to dealing with development and business issues. Which brings me to my point..."

She slid a sheaf of paperwork onto Michelle's desk, pushing it close to her. The other woman picked it up and paused for a minute to read through.

"So. You managed to get all the ducks lined up with the state, huh?"

"Yuuuup" Chloe answered, popping her lips on the 'p'.

She then went on to explain, "Our current population is still a little bit smaller than they like to see for a mayoral-system town, but given our phenomenal growth numbers over the three years or so, they figured we'd get there soon enough. Still..." she took another drag. "Chris is really good at what he does. I can see that. But we need someone who has the sort of executive authority to handle the Board, and then just tell him what needs to be done. If he up and quits...Jesus fuck, we're not going to get someone as detail oriented and sharp as he is, not for a town this size. Not to mention the procedural streetfight you and Haim are gonna to have to endure as the X-man and I duke it out to find someone we can both agree upon to fill the position."

"So you're going to propose this at the meeting, then? That your plan? For the election in November?" Michelle asked.

"Sure. Why not? Smaller town like this, we don't need anything more than a campaign starting in the mid summer; none of this cycle-without-end shit like you see at the Federal level, thank the fucking Goddess!" Chloe took a much smaller puff, and affected a mischievous, scampish expression. "Pardon my French, Ms. G."

Michelle snorted, shaking her head. "You realize Steven is going to immediately throw hit hat into the ring, right? This is just the kind of opportunity he and Sean Prescott have been waiting for. So please, _please_ tell me you have a plan on how you're going to oppose him?"

"Ah. Yeah well...here's the thing of it. I'm not going to...you are."

Leaning back in her chair, and narrowing her eyes, Michelle responded. "Excuse me, whaaaat? I'm sorry, maybe these old ears don't hear so well anymore, but did you seriously just suggest that I run for mayor?"

Chloe blinked. "Uh...yeah. I mean, I think it'll be great, I could help you..."

Michelle cut her off. "Oh hell no!"

"...okay. Clearly not the answer I as expecting."

"Chloe, you're a sweet girl, but I swear, sometimes you are so naive. I've lived in this town for a long time. I love it here. There are a lot of good people, and we've rebuilt a wonderful community. But I can tell you right now, there is no way in hell Arcadia Bay is going to vote in a black woman for mayor."

"Oh, come on! I don't think you're being fair! People aren't like that, not anymore..."

Michelle gave a tolerant chuckle, and held up a hand. "Search your heart, Alderman. You know this to be true."

Chloe stopped. "Wait...was that a Star Wars reference."

"Yes. Believe it or not, I was alive when that second movie came out. And I suppose, if we're going down that path, this is your personal fight. I think you know it, but you just don't want to admit it. Much as I hate to paint things as purely black and white, this mayor race you want to spark off is going to turn into that kind of Light Side-Dark Side battle."

"Okay, whoa. Hold on. You're saying you want me to run? I mean, uh, we could probably ask around, see if..."

"Chloe..." Michelle chided gently. "Embrace your destiny."

Closing her eyes, and slumping in her seat, she said, "Seriously? If you think the conservative fucks in this town don't want a black woman for mayor, how's a lesbian who just barely got her bachelor's degree gonna fare any better?"

Crossing her arms and fixing a stern - but not angry - gaze on her, Michelle answered, "Hmmm. You might have a point...if it were just any person running. But you're Chloe Price. Human memory may be a fleeting thing, but barely five years ago, you were the one who single-handedly convinced a group of scared, shocked survivors not to give up hope. You gave of yourself, you literally rebuilt parts of this town with your own hands, and people were so impressed, they dragged you kicking and screaming into a leadership position for the community. And as one of those leaders, you can definitely claim your fair share of credit for things getting better."

Chloe took a overly long drag from her vaporizer, to the point where it actually made her cough. But she needed to do something while she acclimated to the points Michelle was making.

 _Shit. Why are you being so modest, Chloe? I mean, she does have a point. Maybe it's because I'm afraid I don't deserve so much credit. And maybe I really don't. Like...if only she knew the whole reason_ why _. It's not because I'm Saint fucking Chloe! I'm not this good, kind, selfless person she thinks I am. It's because...because an entire town had to die so I could live! I stood there and watched it all happen! Because I have enough human decency left in me to know that I owe the town, the people who paid in blood. For me, for my life, so it could continue! But it's not because I'm awesome, or special, or shit like that._

 _...because the woman I would walk through Hell itself for desperately begged me to do what I could to keep Arcadia Bay together. Oh God...that's it. I'm so alone sometimes. Because who else can I tell, other than Max? How it feels sometime, being in this position? Who would believe me?_

 _Huh. Guess I thought...I was stupid enough to think that five years would be a enough, wasn't I? That I could prop the town back up, barely get it back on its feet, dust my hands off, and say "Fuck you later, bitches!". But I can't. I guess this shit between me and Steven is finally coming to a head. And if I walk away from it now, Sean Prescott comes back into full power, and then what'll happen? Maybe this town dies again, much slower and more painful this time, and then poor Max. She's doing so much better, but...can't risk how it might kill her to see..._

 _Fuck! Michelle is..._

"...you're right." Chloe finally answered, in a low, hesitant tone. "Maybe I hate it, maybe I think that I'm just someone that fate thrust into circumstances beyond her control, but I can't go and try to pull myself out of this...this current. Can I?"

"That's a rather melodramatic way of looking at it, Chloe. But yes, to be blunt: this town still needs you. The governmental paradigm needs to evolve, and honestly, the last thing I want to see is Sean Prescott and his group get their hands on all that we've built over the years. Arcadia Bay still has its problems, but it's becoming a kinder, gentler place to live in. Frankly, it would break my heart to see what would happen, if Steven ran the show. I mean, he wouldn't be a dictator, but the Council is effectively giving up some of it's absolute executive power and placing it into the hands of a single individual. Like it or not, fair or not, however you want to see the circumstances surrounding this, you're the best one to run against him. To bear the standard. It's going to be the biggest fight between 'New Arcadia' and 'Old Bay' to date. And it's just same sort of struggle every community goes through when a cultural shift occurs."

Chloe gave a heavy, overly-dramatic sigh. "Fine. I'll do it. I'll give it my best shot. And then when people end up choosing Exeter over me, I can finally wash my hands of this town, and say 'I tried.'. You know, with a lot more conviction than, like, almost everyone else."

"Hmph." Michelle said. "Talk like that. I'd think you were only saying that to yourself because you already want to soften the blow, how much it'd hurt if you lost. How much you'd hate it if he _did_ win, and dragged this town back to the bad old days."

Head bowed, a pained expression on her face, she paused, for a few seconds, then breathed out. "No comment." Glancing over at the clock she said. "C'mon. Meeting's gonna start soon. Time to cross the Rubicon, Ms. G. _Veni Vidi Vici_ and all that jazz."

Rising up next to her, Michelle said, "Chloe, if this is you as a high school dropout that finally pulled herself up and got through college, then I really wish I could see the universe where you fully applied yourself and tore through Blackwell. You'd probably be Governor by now."

 _Hah. No. You don't want to see that place. If what Max told me is true, I've been dead for years now._

* * *

"Oh. My. God. I seriously need a...ugggh!"

Chloe glanced up from the living room couch, looking over the paperwork she'd need to submit to formally signal her intention to run for mayor. She was still trepedacious about the entire affair. It wasn't that the arguments were wrong because Jesus Christ they sure weren't but...

 _...still can't help like I'm chained to a destiny. Or a compulsion, what the hell is that called...giri? No...a geas! I think?_

"A what?" Chloe asked. Her smile widened as she rose up, greeting her hipster punk queen with a hug and lingering kiss, both of which her girlfriend greedily accepted.

"A joint!" Max called out with exasperation. "Fucking...the kids today, Chloe. Ooooh..." She gave her another kiss on the cheek, and then started to walk up the stairs towards the bedroom. "Just let me get changed out of this getup, and raid the stashbox. You mind if we order in tonight?"

"No, not at all! I wasn't exactly up for cooking either. Got a lot of paperwork to get through tonight."

There was a pause, while Max took a few minutes in the bedroom to remove her current oh-so-artfully crafted ensemble, of the kind that she was quickly becoming famous for; not content to pursue the artistic through her photography, she'd become a wiz at combining leggings, boots, corsets, jackets, bracelets, dresses, scarves and stockings, cultivating an eclectic persona expressed through her wardrobe.

But Chloe knew the truth: as much as Max loved finding new ways of expressing herself, of presenting a particular style, a tailored image, at the end of the day she often wanted nothing more than to throw on a pair of sweats, a cute little t-shirt, and cuddle.

Flopping down next to her, Max put a large, Dutch-style joint up to her lips, lit it up, and inhaled needfully.

Chloe peered closely and snorted. "Damn woman, is that the superjoint, the one rolled in honey oil? Clearly you think you need to go from 'sober' to 'stupid chill' in three seconds flat. Wowsers, to quote you." She scooted up close and wrapped an arm around her "Bad day? Kids being really shitty in class?"

Max quickly blew the smoke out and offered a hit to her. "No. Not...shitty. Really, not shitty at all. I mean, not to me. If anything, some of them are real suck-ups...you know, like Victoria used to be, back in the day." She smirked in remembrance.

She continued, "And they're so young, Chloe. Especially the freshmen students. I just turned twenty-three, but they look like babies to me now. What the hell? But...but really, no, it's not that they gave me grief; the opposite. Sometimes they're so full of enthusiasm and wanting to impress me, and it's just..." She forced herself to shudder, like she was being electrocuted. "Gaaaaaaaaah! Like the energy is just so fucking intense sometimes. There are days it's still too much for me, and I can feel my anxiety ramping up. I mean, I'm not throwing up in the toilet anymore, and I think it's good practice for me, good way to desensitize myself to my lingering social anxiety. But with end year projects coming up, everyone's a little insane right now. You know me, Che. Maybe I look all crazy and fun and outgoing on the outside, and I even am some days, but I'm still..." She blushed, and shook her head. "Sometimes I'm still so damn shy, you know?"

As Chloe took her own deep hit from the joint, Max concluded, "On the last day, it's like...I'd love to just bring a plate of hash brownies in and say "Eat up kids. Chill. The fuck. Out. See you in the Fall."

Chloe tried not to laugh, smiling as she leaned over and kissed Max hard, shotgunning the smoke back into her lungs. Her girlfriend responded with the biggest smile, exhaling hard against her face, before taking the joint back.

"But then I come home to you, and everything is all...fantastic." Max smiled blissfully. "Better than fantastic. Everything is Chloe. Chloe is my new word for 'better than fantastic', by the way." She glanced over at the papers spread out on the coffee table. "So, whatcha working on? Secret Alderman stuff? Can you tell me about it? Do I have to seduce it out of you?"

Chloe passed the opportunity by to have another puff, at least for now; she needed to be passably clear headed to get through the rest of this. "Paperwork to enter the mayor's race."

Max blinked. "Wait. What...you mean of _this_ town?"

Chloe nodded once. "Mmmmhmmm. Council voted on my plan to reorganize the government, as a mayor-council system with the town manager simply working to craft and execute the policy after it's figured out. Almost passed unanimously, but you know fucking Haim, he had to vote no, and complain about how he doesn't like 'weird and crazy' change in his town. Jesus fuck, should have seen Steven. Probably had to wipe the drool off his chin, he was so eager for this. Chris is happy though, because his tenure of having to play pretend mayor is coming to an end no matter what."

Smiling, Max shifted around, laying back on the couch and placing her legs across Chloe's lap. "And you're going to run against him, obviously! Exeter I mean. Allllright! That...that is so awesome Chloe." Taking one last drag, Max was clearly feeling no pain at all as she put the joint to the side, giving a happy, relaxed sigh. "Mmmmm. Really. Awesome. You're totally going to win. And then...wowsers! Mayor. Oh my God, you must be so excited...right?"

"Whoa whoa, slow down, Babe-arella. No guarantee I'm going to win. You know, culturally, shit's coming to a head. Sure, everyone likes the financial development, and all that, but you've got the old guard who hate the fact that little artisan bakeries and boutiques and organic co-ops and cannabis bed and breakfasts are opening up. That younger, hipper families and artists are making this place home. Even though it was a shitty, run-down ex-fishing town, it was _their_ shitty et cetera, et cetera. Now that everyone's well fed and not dying anymore, it's like they're falling back into old bad habits, making a whole culture war over shit." She shook her head ruefully. "You know, whatever. I know I have to be the one to try and fight for our side, but if I lose, I won't be torn up over it. My conscience will be clear. I did my duty, and finally got discharged."

Max blinked, a concerned expression growing on her face, "Wait, if you lose, don't you still get to be Alderman?"

"Nope! One of the big provisos I put in is that anyone who wants to run for mayor who is already on the council has to resign that position. With me and Steven going for it, both our seats are up for grabs. So hey, maybe I get lucky, and I win, and I get a couple of non-assholes replacing both of us. Or maybe I end up becoming mayor, but I'm always fighting with a more conservative council." She shrugged. "Or maybe I just lose, and Arcadia Bay finally has to take care of it's own damn self." Smiling, she concluded, "But hey, if I lose, that's more time for us. and that's awesome."

Max rose up to a sitting position, and reached out to stroke her face. Chloe couldn't help but notice that while she wasn't quite on the edge of tears, she was clearly agitated.

"Chloe...Chloe you have to...you have to fight! You have to take this seriously. This...is our home now. _Our_ home, our place. I...I don't want to see it...goddamn it, you need to be serious!"

Chloe blinked. "Baby? I...I do. I am. I promise you, I do..."

Max stuck out her bottom lip. "I mean it! I know maybe you feel like Arcadia Bay is still some place you feel burdened by, beholden to...and maybe I felt that way too, like I owed it something, and I couldn't wait to run away from it. But that was the old town. The place that died. Everything we have now, that's good, and new, and exciting...Chloe, I love this town! I love Arcadia Bay. I love it because you built it. For me! Because I asked you to try, make it something better, for all the people that I...that we..." She reached up, brushing a tear away from her shining eyes. "So...so how can you be so cavalier about it? Doesn't it mean something to you, too?"

Chloe just stared at the woman she loved, and at the moment, she felt barely an inch tall.

 _Oh God...I'm being such a bitch..._

Because in retrospect, when she really made herself slow down and think about it, yeah...she did kind of like the place.

Maybe even love it, as much as she hated to admit it. The clean, bright streets. The cute little shops. The weird mix of old and new, trying to figure out how to get along and live together. It was hard though...

"...always been fighting against something, Max. Against the world, against my Mom, against David, against Blackwell, against Life. Against Jefferson, and Nathan and...and then I fought against death, and destruction, and then I fought _against_ people giving up hope. People being stupid shits and repeating past mistakes, and..." She pounded lightly at her forehead. "I'm just not used to fighting _for_ shit."

Max kissed her tenderly, and breathed out. "I've always fought for you, Chloe. And you've always fought for me. Just do that. Love me, love my town. Fight for us both. Please?"

"How the hell can I say no." Chloe responded in a faraway voice.

Then glanced over to the papers, and gently stacked them, before putting them away somewhere safe. "Fuck it though, I'll tear into this in the morning. How about tonight, just one more night, it's you and it's me, and nothing else. Getting high, watching movies, eating delivery food. One more night to relax before we get back to the next fight?"

Max giggled, mood immediately improving. "Sounds good. And I guess we should throw in some fingerbanging...I know that's like your favorite word in the world right now."

Chloe laughed and then leaned in close, kissing at Max's neck and hair. "Aaaaactually. I picked up a couple of things at that new high class sex shop downtown."

They just stared at each other for a few moments, before Max slid off the couch, grabbed the joint, and took Chloe's hand, leading her to the bedroom.

"Change of plans: sex toy sex first, movies and pizza second. We have to work up an appetite, right?"

Chloe burst out laughing as she followed along.

* * *

The election cycle began in earnest near the end of the summer. A few people signaled their intention to run for each of the soon-to-be vacant Alderman seats, but Chloe didn't take much heed as to who they were or what they were doing. By that token, she seemed positively overwhelmed for the first time in her political career, unsure of what to do or how to organize her campaign. It was almost as if her nerve was failing her. She'd never admit to it, but after Max's impassioned plea to once again try and save the town, she was overcome with anxiety as to what might happen if she actually lost.

That all came to an end the day Max brought in Maggie Dresden; an older, fashionably attired Gen X woman, with a no-nonsense attitude and a pageboy haircut to match, who had served as one of the assistants to the mayor of Corvallis until she decided to move to Arcadia Bay. In short order, she whipped the campaign back into shape, saving it from a premature death at Chloe's inexperienced hands. Guided her through the hoops, arranged meetings with various groups in the community, coached her through the debates. She quickly became indispensable, and Chloe declared her 'a goddamn force of nature'.

She also helped Chloe overcome most of her squeamishness in collecting campaign contributions, practically shaking the sense physically into her one night in late August.

"Look. I know you want to keep your hands as clean as possible, like you need to be above the fray, but Exeter is kicking our asses in paid media and outreach right now. He's got Prescott and his pals writing checks and bankrolling his machine. Meanwhile, Glenda O'Meara and all her monied friends are dying, begging me to take their donations, the ones you keep refusing. I know you worry that you're somehow going to end up like a fucking puppet, bought and paid for, but yes, sorry, sometimes this is how the game is played...and you need to woman up on this. You and Glenda agree on too much; I sure she realizes you aren't going to give her any little thing she wants if you become mayor, and she damn well knows it's a disaster if Prescott starts running the town through Exeter. Races don't get much cleaner than this, Chloe. It's one of the nice things about small town politics...sometimes it's really dirty, but sometimes it's so obviously black and white. And this is the latter. So fight. Be a champion. Be a one woman army! But an army needs money. Let me fucking handle that, okay?"

With proper guidance at last, Chloe managed to shine through. While she initially discovered she needed to tone down the roughest edge of her previously trademark bombastic mode, she managed to, after a couple false starts, develop and appropriately barn burning speech style.

Still, it was tight, as November approached. With her record of achievement, Chloe was able to run a largely positive campaign, doing her best to try and stay above Exter's mudslinging. Unfortunately, he was able to strike a few palpable blows, attacking Chloe's troubled teen years, her criminal record, her youth and inexperience. Whereas Chloe tried her best to run on realistic economic progress and the unfortunate reality that things like nice schools and competent police actually cost money, Steven stirred up people's avarice with promises to deeply cut property taxes, without actually explaining how to make up for the lost revenue. He made exhortations to the "great Arcadia Bay of the past." implying that the town was being 'preyed upon' by out of towners who were 'corrupting the content of its character.'

As October drew to a close, the race became a dead heat in the polls, although more and more were showing Exeter with a small but definite lead. Chloe was already working on her concession speech...

...but then he made a critical error.

Seeking to strike a _coup-de-grace_ , he and his campaign began a dog-whistling whisper campaign against Chloe and Max, trying to whip up whatever homophobia they could against them and their relationship.

That seemed to strike precisely the wrong chord.

Arcadia Bay might have a significant blue collar, salt of the earth contingent that was socially conservative, but it was still Oregon. A Northwestern conservative was most definitely not akin to a Southern one. The truth of the matter was that against a generic lesbian couple, Exeter's attacks might have found purchase, but people, whether they agreed with her or not, genuinely respected Chloe, for all that she had done to save the town, hold it together during it's darkest hours, and rebuild it. And people _liked_ Max. She was charming and bright, and happy, and polite; by and large, her students loved her. The two of them together formed a sort of power couple in town that people looked up to, and more than a few of the townsfolk took it rather personally when the Exeter campaign made such a vicious turn.

Chloe saw a three point deficit reverse itself into a one point lead on the day of the election. It was going to be close. Possibly too close to call, only to be wrapped up after days of recounts.

In the final hours of the election day afternoon, she contemplated the course of the past few months. Maybe she made mistakes, and maybe she almost blew it here and there, but as the campaign wore on, as she worked to get to know people in ways she never had before, even compared to her time as the Alderman-at-Large, she started to accomplish exactly what she never had before.

Working to fight _for_ something, rather than against.

* * *

 **November 6th, 2018**

Chloe paced in her living room, with Maggie, Max, and a few other campaign volunteers, waiting for the call. The tabulated results from all four of the voting precincts. She was pretty sure she was going to lose the fourth, and win the first. Third and second were roughly up for grabs.

 _Won't have to wait too long, I hope..._

New scantron-type ballot machines were purchased when the city was rebuilt. The results would be counted almost instantly once the polls closed, and there were paper ballots retained just in case the vote totals were tight enough to trigger an automatic recount, per the town's revised charter.

It was almost ninety minutes after the polls were closed before the call came in.

"Hello?" Chloe answered, trepidatiously.

"Chloe, hi. It's Chris. Just got the results. I wanted to let you know how it went."

Chloe's hands trembled, as she waited to hear the outcome.

 _Oh God. I actually care. Fuck, I actually want to win this. Shit! Why didn't I take the campaign more seriously from the start, why did I have to have Max save it from me, why didn't I...well...shit. It's over now. Time to find out how it went down._

"It was tight, although you managed to pick up more votes in the second precinct than I imagine you were expecting. I just sent you an encrypted email with the breakdown and tallies"

Chloe smirked to herself. No surprise, not really. Her Mom and David lived there. Wouldn't have surprised her if they knocked on every door, put fliers in every hand, twisted every arm and wheedled people to within an inch of their lives. They were just so damn proud of her. Of what she was doing with her life now.

Again, Chloe felt a bolt of shame burn through her, for her initial cavalier peevishness, when all of this started months earlier.

"Oh?" she asked. "I mean...like...is this where you say 'But'...?"

"No, not quite. Like I said, it was tight. But the good news is that you got enough votes, about sixty, above the automatic recount cutoff. Before I called you, I talked to Steven. I told him what I just told you, mailed him the same data. I said that yeah, if he wanted to, he could maybe try and file a legal injunction, demand a recount even though he doesn't have the margin on his side. And in a town this size, with machines as good as the ones we have, with me personally overseeing a recount, I strongly doubted he was going to manage to find the three hundred votes he needed to beat you. He...well, he wasn't happy, but I reminded him that maybe if he wanted another shot in two years, starting off now by wasting the taxpayer's money on a recount effort more than likely to fail wasn't the way to lay the groundwork. I believe he's going to make his concession speech shortly."

Chloe couldn't breathe...in the best way possible.

"H-holy fuck! Wait, Chris. Seriously, are you saying I won? Like actually for-real won?"

"It would seem that way." He intoned with mock grimness. "Congratu-dolences is the phase I prefer to use. Honestly, the only person who _really_ won in this is me, because all the worst parts of my job are your problem now, Madame Mayor."

Chloe swallowed, working her tongue against her dry mouth. She gazed over, starting to notice the radiant expression of exultation on Max's face, the look of proud triumph on Maggie's. A few of the volunteers were exchanging high fives.

The room hovered on the precipice of an emotional explosion.

"K-kay then. Alright. Um...so I guess I better get my ass over to the junior high. Promised to give a speech either way, and...and...right then. Goodby...oh! Fuck! Wait wait wait...I suddenly realize I actually care about who won the open council seats!"

"Oh, yeah. Sure. I put that in the email, but I can tell you. Bad news first, at least you'll probably see it that way: Rose Boyce won Steven's place. She managed to beat Tamara Wilson decisively. Actually, I believe "crush humiliatingly" would be more apt."

Chloe covered her face with a hand, and groaned, her shoulders slumping. Boyce was the crazy evangelical lady, one of the few people left in town who would still not shut the fuck up about the storm being God's punishment against the town's 'wicked ways'. She'd taken particular glee in criticizing her personally, referring to her and Max as "Those damned Arcadia Gays." Like it was some sort of clever joke.

 _Yeah well, I'm the mayor now, bitch..._

Chloe mouthed to Max, "Rose Boyce won."

"Fuck!" Max screamed in frustration, jumping up off the couch, shaking her hands up in the air.

"You made it sound like there was good news, Chris?"

"Huh? Oh! Right. John Bartley got your old seat."

Chloe felt a smile creep on her face. "Wait. Blackwell's new head IT guy? Huge dude, looks like a viking? Has the hot wife who writes RPG books freelance or something? Just kicked a cancer scare in the ass?"

Max suddenly called out, overhearing. "Oh holy shit, John Bartley won?! Yes! He's so fucking awesome! His daughter is such a sweetie, too!"

Nodding, Chloe turned back to her phone call.

"That's as fitting as a description as any, yes." Chris said.

"Ha ha ha! Oh my God, this...this is hella-mazing! Council meetings are going to be like bloodsport now!" Chloe responded, holding up a clenched fist in glee.

There was a pause, before Chris answered. "As long as you're happy, I suppose. Well, I won't hold you up any longer, I'm sure you've got a lot of calls to make, and a long night ahead of you. See you Monday."

"Y-yeah! Bye Chris. Thanks! Ha ha!"

 _Oh man. I gotta call Bartley. I feel so bad, I only met with him once, and I should have given him a more ringing endorsement, and...and..._

It was then that Max all but tackled her, the room erupting at last in a cacophony of hoots, hollers, whistles and cheers.

"You did it! You did it!" Max all but shrieked. "Oh baby!" She then proceeded to kiss her repeatedly, while she spoke. "Baby, I knew you could do it. I knew you would! I'm so happy! Just...just so...happy!"

Glancing over Max's shoulder, Chloe caught Maggie's eye and mouthed. "Oh my fucking God, thank you. For everything."

Gently disengaging, Chloe said, "Okay! Ummm...okay, everyone head over to the high school! Shit, I mean the junior high. I...oh fuck. I can't believe it, but I didn't actually write a victory speech. Shit! Ummmm...I'll...wing it? And..."

She glanced up at the bedroom. A notion occurred to her. Something she was planning on springing anyhow, win or lose.

"Let me just get my ah...my coat. From the bedroom. Then we'll go."

* * *

Chloe closed her eyes, breathing deep. In and out, doing her best to keep the nervous excitement of the past hour from completely overwhelming her, turning into a panic. She wasn't going to be sleeping tonight, that's for sure. And Max already called out sick for her Wednesday classes, in anticipation.

Then the moment arrived, the signal she'd been waiting for. There was a shout and a cheer. A voice...probably Maggie's? Shouting out, telling folks to give it up for the first mayor of Arcadia Bay. A swell of music to play her in. "Invincible" by Pat Benatar, which was the campaign's more-or-less official theme. It wasn't a song or an artist Chloe was familiar with, and the choice was of course something Maggie made, but after hearing it a couple of times, she couldn't fault her taste, or judgement.

" _We can't afford to be innocent!"  
"Stand up and face the enemy."_

" _It's a do or die situation - we will be invincible!"_

Although now that Chloe actually listened to it again as she walked out onto stage, she blanched.

 _Huh. It seems kind of aggressive now for this tiny little campaign. Eh, what the fuck! Max and Ms. G were right, this_ was _a pretty do or die fight for the direction of Arcadia Bay, wasn't it? Shit, am I actually worrying about being too aggressive? Somewhere, nineteen year old me is getting ready to kick my ass._

Dressed smartly in a business skirt and jacket, her hair still dyed black, but now with a blue bang, she waved to the audience, smiling to the point where it made her cheeks ache. Strode over to the podium and gripped it.

 _Fuuuuuck. So...so many people out there. Oh Christ, remind me how I got myself into this situation again!?_

"H-hey everyone." she started, addressing the crowd. Laughing slightly when that was enough to prompt a fresh wave of applause.

"Gonna be honest with you folks. I don't have anything for this. It's terrible, but I didn't write a victory speech. Felt...felt too arrogant, like tempting fate, you know? 'Cause maybe I wanted it to be from the heart, if...when the moment actually came. Well...damn. Here it is! And what can I say, what can I really say? It's been a short, but intense few months, hasn't it? There were a lot of passionate viewpoints, on both sides. But I'm not going to ignore the fact it was a close race. A lot of you voted for me, but a lot of others didn't. I still have to be the mayor for everyone."

 _Maggie really nailed the need to be magnanimous here. I think she's got a fucking good point..._

"And as your mayor, I'm going to be working hard for this community, justifying your faith in me. Mending fences, holding out a hand to the other side. Trying to bring everyone closer together. You know, trying to preserve the remainder of that original spirit that saw us through, during those trying times five years ago. And building on all the hard work we've accomplished, all the work that's turning Arcadia Bay into one of the best communities in America!"

Chloe shook her head, and grinned nervously. "How do I even begin to thank everyone? All the voters, the volunteers especially...the people who believed in us, gave of themselves, their time, effort, money. My parents. Maggie, my campaign manager, who oh-my-god is just the best. And...and of course...and hey! Did you hear John Bartley won? Yeah, yeah! Give it up for him! I couldn't ask for a better guy to take over At-Large. And ah...uh. Crap. Where was I? Oh right!" she looked over to the side stage. "Max? Max, sweetie...uh...hey. Come out here, okay? Please?"

It was a few seconds before Max trotted out on stage, smiling and waving nervously, like a deer caught in the headlights. "H-hi everyone!" She called out. A few of the female students in the audience called out. "Ms. Caulfield! Yeah!"

Chloe smiled to herself. Reached into her jacket pocket, extracting something from it, but keeping it concealed in her hand for the moment, before continuing. "Okay..um...um...right, so Max, I need to get your vote on something."

Not having any idea what the hell was going on, Max drifted over and spoke into the microphone. "Uh...sweetie? I already voted today. And...ha ha, Sorry Mr. Exeter, I'm afraid my one vote wasn't enough to turn the tide for you."

The room erupted into laughter. Chloe groaned and made playful choking motions of mock frustration with her hands.

"N-no. No not that. New election. New campaign. You wanna hear the pitch?"

Max gave a strained laugh, through clenched teeth, clearly and increasingly uncomfortable to be out on public stage like this. "Oookay..."

Chloe grabbed the mike, and stood at Max's side, away from the podium. She wasted no time with what came next.

"Max Caulfield...you are the light of my life. Its savior. My angel. Everything I have ever done for this town over the past five years, I did for you. In your name. From your inspiration. I know for a fact I would never have made it this far without you."

 _Oh God, if people only knew how true that was!_

"I will never, ever be my best without your constant presence, guidance, support, and love in my life, from now until the end of days."

She swallowed, and glanced down at the floor for a moment, "So your vote, yes or no..." And at last, she dropped down onto one knee, holding out a diamond ring.

"Max Caufield, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife? I...I mean, Arcadia Bay needs a First Lady or something, right?"

There was a sharp, collective gasp from the audience.

Max was stunned. Her jaw dropped, her mouth quickly covered up with one hand. Fresh tears instantly burst from her eyes, and rolled down her cheeks. She was completely overcome with emotion, unable to speak, but it didn't keep her from reacting. Nodding her head up and down with frenetic intensity, holding out her hand for the ring which Chloe eagerly placed upon her finger.

The noise in the auditorium was absolutely deafening now. People, especially the younger members of the crowd, were absolutely ecstatic to be witnessing the proposal. Screaming, shouting, taking pictures and videos.

Chloe rose to her feat, gathered Max up in her arms, swept her down low, and kissed her with ferocious intensity. Holding it for a good five seconds, before finally whipping her back onto her feet.

It took a minute for the clamor to die down, before Chloe could speak again, standing hand in hand with her presumptive fiancee.

"So...yes, no, or none of the above?"

She held out the microphone to Max, who simply squeaked. "Uh...uh-huh!". Then she couldn't take anymore, running off the stage, but laughing, smiling and shrieking all the while.

 _Oh Max. Sorry. I couldn't help myself. But you were so awesome for playing along. I love you so much..._

Turning back to the crowd, Chloe said, "Welp. I guess I got her vote for my re-election campaign! But, uh...don't go expecting kisses and diamond rings for the rest of you, that was just a one time thing, okay?"

There was more to the speech. Just a bit. And dancing, and celebration, shaking hands, greeting wellwishers. It all passed by so quickly, in a white, blissful blur. They didn't get home until almost dawn, and there was no way that Max was going to let her go to bed without some serious, weapons grade, toe-curling, bed breaking sex happening.

* * *

Panting and trying to catch her breath, Chloe gazed up at the ceiling, Max nestled against her side.

"I swear, Chloe Price. If you ever fucking do that to me again..I'll...I'll...fuck you up. Hardcore."

Despite her protests and her supposed displeasure, she was still smiling with absolute, childlike glee.

"Y-yeah. Already fucked me up pretty hard there, wife-to-be. I don't think I could survive a second round."

Max gave her a darkly alluring gaze, eyes narrowing. "Are you suuuuure?"

Chloe's eyes widened. She groaned softly for a moment, as Max started to insistently nibble on her ear. "Oh...sweetie...I'm so sorry but..no, I'm so tired...I don't thiiiiinnk ahhhhgodyesssright there. Riiiiight there, yes!"

The covers flew up and over the pair of them.

Neither got out of bed until well past noon.

* * *

 _ **A/N:**_ Hi guys!

So a few bits and bobs...its funny how much the development of Arcadia Bay is mirroring my own hometown, which has shifted over from a run down mill town - which coincidentally services a singular rich prep school, just like Blackwell - to a hipper, more artsy community over the past 20 years, and the war between the more liberal and conservative cultures still ongoing. I guess its true, write what you know.

Still, my town is not nearly as cool as Arcadia Bay.

John Bartley and his wife are based on friends of mine, who live out in the Pacific Northwest. 'John' did just kick a cancer scare in the ass, so this is my tribute to him.

I realize I've been publishing rather aggressively on this series. I am probably going to need to slow it up now, because I've got a bunch of work I need to take care of on Black Swan. I'm going to try and keep up with at least once a week update. By my estimation, there isn't much more than five to eight chapters left of Grande Dame anyhow.

Have an awesome day! Thanks for all your support over the past couple of weeks, it has been breathtaking!


	9. Chapter 9

**March 2019**

Chloe was still settling in to the reality of being the mayor of an entire town; honestly, the notion that she was chief executive of anything and anyone beyond herself still struck her as a joke. There were days she expected someone to pop out from behind the sofa or a door and announce that this was all part of some elaborate reality TV prank.

The wedding though? That was a dream that she never wanted to wake up from. Her mom and step-dad were delighted of course, and Max's parents were ecstatic as well. Even though Chloe always suspected that Ryan and Vanessa weren't exactly thrilled in the beginning with the relationship; not that they were against the idea of their daughter being with another woman, more that their concerns were focused on the idea of Max being in Arcadia Bay, in a traumatic time of her life. And they worried Max was being impulsive starting a romantic relationship which they feared was based only on the short but incredibly intense situation of one week in October.

But that was a long time ago; Max was a beloved teacher and professional photographer, Chloe was a successful politician, and they were soooooo damn good together.

 _Even if I do say so myself._

Ryan insisted on paying for the wedding, although his attempts to have it held in Seattle swiftly crumbled in the face of Max's adamant refusal to be married anywhere but Arcadia Bay.

They already had the perfect day picked, and the perfect place.

October 11th, 2019. It was a Friday, exactly as it was in 2013, the day of the storm. The day both their childhoods died; but a day that ultimately set them on a path that would result in much happier outcomes.

The place?

 _Kinda seems hella screwy that we're taking our vows at the same cliff, right next to the lighthouse. The place where we stood and watched as the town was flattened. Where Max and I..._

Even now, Chloe still smiled brilliantly at the memory of that first real kiss Max surprised her with. A confession of love, bursting free, when both of them were convinced that she was doomed for the sake of the town.

But Max and Chloe were of one mind on this: as tragic as that date and place might have initially been, it was time to honor and celebrate that intersection, for all the good that was birthed.

Starting out though, the notion was mostly Max's...

" _I got the idea after that cute little exercise you did, helping me get over the negative charge I still associated with that classroom, the day before I first started teaching at Blackwell. I thought to myself: that worked so well! Let's take it to the next level."_

Chloe just hoped it would be nice and sunny for their wedding day; In her mind's eye, she envisioned the a gorgeous sunset framing the two of them, as they exchanged vows of eternal love and devotion. Even the thought of it being simply overcast, with a dark, weighty curtain of cloud cover rolling in but otherwise not raining out the vows seemed like a horrible omen to her. Stirred up too much of the lingering residue of fear and helplessness that still clung to her heart.

Max acknowledged it was a bit of a gamble.

" _I know...but just keep thinking of the payoff! We've played it risky before. This'll be easy."_

She laughed softly to herself, as she continued to hang a few personal items here and there on the walls of her office, in the newly refurbished municipal building. The base interior design was all Maggie's doing, of course; the older woman had graciously agreed to stay on as Chloe's personal aide. A woman of her talent could easily go somewhere else, with more pay and responsibilities, but Maggie had honestly come to love Arcadia Bay, more than happy to make a new home here.

Chloe set down a framed picture on her desk, the one Max took the day after their 'raid' on Blackwell. Lying in bed together, as she photo-bomed the selfie attempt.

 _The day I was trying to figure out what the hell I was feeling for her. God...I thought I was being so smooth with the "Oh, hey, I'm just daring you to kiss me. Just wanted to see what you would do. That's all. No big." routine. Musta been so hella transparent._

She smirked at her blue hair, with the top roots faded to a dirty violet. Reached up to touch at the cerulean bangs that added swatches of color to the velvet black that she continued to dye the rest of her hair.

" _You should keep it that way, you know? The black part, if nothing else."_ Maggie insisted. _"People respond to that sort of thing; they take you more serious than if you were just blonde. At least that's my take on it. May not be fair, but the cruel realities that surrounded electoral politics usually aren't."_

Even though she instantly the knew answer, Chloe couldn't help but ask herself, for the millionth time, how the hell she went from hating this town with a burning passion to being it's most prominent citizen.

 _I may be the mayor, stuck with all these responsibilities and shit, but I can still be a_ cool _mayor, right? Like, maybe Max can teach me how to play guitar, and I can coordinate something with the Oregon Guard, and I'll open the first State of the Town address playing a guitar solo while wheeling in on top of a tank. Ah God! So fucking epic when Peter Capaldi did that!_

The intercom dinged, and Maggie's voice called out, breezy and amused, "You're fiancee is here to see you, Madam Mayor."

Jabbing the button to reply, Chloe said, "Whew! Thanks for the warning! Even though I totally have a logical explanation, it'd be embarrassing if she caught me and the gal doing an interview for the local community college paper together in nothing but our underwear."

There was a laugh in the background, as Max called out. "You are sooooo dead, Che!" A few seconds later, she walked in, closing the door behind her. Then pointedly locked it. She was dressed in a full length black leather trenchcoat, which Chloe found somewhat strange, considering the weather was unseasonably warm at the moment.

Chloe started to rise up to greet her, but Max held out a gloved hand, waving her back down. "No sweetie, you sit." She made her way over to the desk, then leaned over, greeting her with a warm, lingering kiss.

"Hiiiii..." Chloe breathed out, smiling as they parted. "Oooh, I like this. a visit from my favorite constituent. Not that I'm complaining, but shouldn't you be getting ready to go to Iceland?

Blackwell was currently on spring break, and Max had managed to score a plum assignment taking pictures of Iceland along the coast of the Snaefellsnes peninsula. Chloe desperately wanted to go with her, but there was still too much for her to take care of at the moment, with the transition in government.

"No, I'm all packed. Leaving first thing tomorrow. Oh my dog, is it going to suck getting there! Two plane flights, twelve hours of flight time, and like...eight hour time difference. But - oh - some of the places I'm going to shoot are just gorgeous! And if I'm really lucky, I'm still on the tail end of prime northern lights season."

Chloe mock-grumbled, affecting a pout, "Yeah, yeah, rub it in. I should totally abuse my power, and turn this into a...I don't know...diplomatic mission? Do towns do that? Could I totally do that? And demand that Bjork greet us at the airport? She's a queen or princess in Iceland, right?"

Max burst out laughing. "No! No you can't...welllll. Technically I suppose if you went there with the intention of establishing a sister city relationship with some town there."

Snapping her fingers, Chloe remarked, "Oh shit! I can do that kind of stuff now? Damn, wish you told me sooner, woulda ordered Maggie to get me another ticket, and make Chris pretend to be Deputy Mayor for a week. The resulting scandal would be so worth it!" Smirking, Chloe leaned forward, placing her fingers together, elbows on the desk, chin on her hands. "Soooo...did you just come to be sweet to your Lady Mayor, or rub Icelandic awesomeness in my face? Or do you need my input on more wedding stuff?"

Chloe discovered, much to her dismay, that there was a _lot_ of planning, detailed, seriously detailed, extremely detailed, brain-meltingly, infinitely _detailed_ planning that went into a wedding. Not that Max was a bridezilla - okay not really - and not that their wedding ceremony was all that complicated, but she did want every little thing to be just so, and Chloe could hardly fault her. But between the bridesmaid dresses, and the catering, and entertainment, and seating arrangements - oh god, the seating arrangements! - and setting up the wedding registry, Chloe wondered how the hell people ever did marriage once, let alone multiple times.

 _Fuck it Max, I'd be ecstatic if we just got married at a Chuck E. Cheese. Hell, still not too late. There'd be a ball pit for the reception!_

Max smiled, leaning forward , and splaying out her hands on the edge of the desk, "None of those. Actually...I came for a little role-playing exercise."

Not knowing what Max had in mind, but suspecting she was going to like where this was going, Chloe asked, "Oh? And what exactly do you mean by that?"

"Well, you're the powerful and influential mayor of Arcadia Bay now. People are gonna be banging down your door, sweetie, and trying to get you to see things their way. Influence you, lobby you, that kind of thing. So I figure it'd be good if I helped you prepare for when that happens."

Chloe tilted her head, her smile growing wider by the second, "Uh...huh. And does this have anything to do with the fact that you're totally covered up in your one flasher-style trenchcoat?"

Max bit down on her bottom lip, tilted her body to one side in a fashion that Chloe found equal parts adorable and dead sexy. "Darn. You got me. Alright then, let's pretend..." and at this, she undid the belt, shrugged off the coat, and let it pool at her feet, revealing what she was wearing underneath. In a black leather corset, tiny miniskirt, fishnets, long leather gloves, and knee high vinyl boots, she was an absolute wet dream; Chloe could feel the heat rapidly rising to her face, as well as a few other more intimate places.

"I-ya...didn't realize the Dominatrix Union had such a strong presence in this town!" Chloe stammered.

Max gave her a knowing look, pushed aside a few knick knacks on the desk, sat herself down on the edge and crossed her legs. "What? Oh no, I'm actually just a concerned citizen, making my case for increased school funding in this town." Chloe's eyes half lidded as her fiancee reached out, cupping her cheek and stroking her face, the scent of leather filling her nostrils. "I think you'll find it's something I'm...passionately devoted to."

Chloe laid her hand over Max's, rubbing her face into those fingers, and murmuring, "M'kay. Whatever you want gorgeous...sports cars for all the teachers?"

Giving her face a weak, playful tap, Max chided, "Nooooo! You can't give in just like that. You have to stand up against...you know...evil, wicked..." her voice lowered a bit, as she breathed out, "tempting lobbyists such as myself. You gotta stay strong, baby." She then mouthed silently, "Not too strong."

This was a side of Max that Chloe wholeheartedly loved: the complex and somewhat contradictory personality. She could be so sweet, and caring, almost naive in more ways than one, coming off as the perfectly nice teacher you could trust your kids with. But behind closed doors, she absolutely delighted in taking charge in the bedroom. Once the two of them became sexually active in earnest after her return from San Francisco, Max quickly blossomed in that regard. Voraciously.

Blinking out of her hormone-induced stupor, Chloe realized she needed to play her part, that Max was wanting just a little more drawn out foreplay. Leaning back away from her touch, however reluctantly, she smirked cruelly and said, "More funding for schools? Never! Never, I say! If anything, I'm planning on closing down the grade school, and exempting all the rich people from all the taxes forever! Nya ha ha, mine is an evil laugh."

Max paused for a moment, working hard to keep from breaking character by laughing too hard, and then reached out, ruffling Chloe's hair with her fingers. In a breathy voice, she pleaded, "But Madam Mayor, I think you'll find I can be verrrrry persuasive. If you'll let me melt your cold, cruel heart..." She then pulled her close, mouth claiming her own, in a brief, but intense kiss.

Chloe melted immediately, and for the millionth time appreciated just how absolutely awesome her life could be these days. Which is probably why she didn't immediately notice the collar wrapping around her throat until a second too late."

Jaw dropping, as the kiss parted, Chloe blushed deeply, and whispered. "Uhhh...ummmm...okayyy. Woow. This...is new."

Pressing lips to her ear, Max whispered out reassuringly, "Are you okay with this? I really wanna...um...play, but if anything I'm trying out makes you honestly uncomfortable, you're allowed to tell me no. Okay, baby?"

Chloe nodded, her heart thumping excitedly. She'd never done anything approaching this level of kinky before, but with Max, someone she absolutely loved and implicitly trusted...it was more than just about making her lover happy; there was something about the whole situation that was turning her on incredibly.

Leaning back and mouthing out, "I love you." to her partner, Chloe pulled back and play-snarled, "What?! You think you can just break me like that!? Never! I'm Chloe Price, bitch! I own this town! This is Arcadia Bay, I'm the...the...Arcadia Gay!" She started to break down into giggles at the final bit, before clearing her throat and continuing. "And if you think your incredible, panty-melting sexiness, what with the whole...hawt outfit and the...mmmm...is that new perfume, sweetie? Yeah...I love it...er...I mean...and...and your wicked, fiendish...ummm...you'll never turn me into your brainwashed and adoring love slave puppet and rule this town from the shadows! Um...so yeah, don't even try."

Her eyes sparkling dangerously, Max said, in a throaty purrr, "Oh, Madame Mayor, you have no idea just _how_ persuasive I can be." Hooking a finger around a ring in the front of the collar, she pulled her close, claiming another kiss. Parting her lips, Chloe eagerly allowed Max's tongue to slip past, wrestling with ever-increasing intensity.

Reluctantly, she broke the kiss, but only long enough the thumb the intercom and says, "M-Maggie? Uh...hold all my calls, 'kay? Any meetings I had this afternoon? Cancel'em."

Pulling out a leash, and hooking one end onto the o-ring, Max smiled, cooing out, "Good girl. Now...let me give you an exhaustive pitch about my...aggressive plan for school funding. Or whatever it is I'm trying to get out of you."

Chloe's head was swimming, drunk with lust, as she almost tripped while trying to rise up to her feet. Max gave the leash a tug, leading her over to the sofa.

 _Wow...this would be hot at home, but here in the actual office...oh damn! Volcanic!_

She was pushed back, landing onto the seat with a soft thump. Max immediately crawled onto her, straddled her lap, and pinned her down against the cushions. Tilting her head up with a gentle, but insistent tug of the leash, Max captured her eyes with a consumingly intense gaze.

"You are mine, Chloe Price. Mine. Body and soul." She broke into a loving smile, and concluded, "And I will take any chance I can get to remind you of just how lucky I am to have you."

Things got hazy from that point...

The next day however, Maggie pointedly, but bemusedly suggested to Chloe that she and Max might want to be a little less vocal during their meetings in the future. The thought of being overheard was mortifying. On the other hand...

 _...still so totally worth it!_

* * *

 ** _A/N:_** A short little something this week, but I hope you enjoy it. I'm always tempted to write a pure smut series for LiS...

This was supposed to be a smaller scene, part of a larger wedding chapter, but I had a long, long week...and also, I spent a lot of time playing Fallout 4 and working on next week's chapter of Black Swan, and after this part started to take on a life of it's own, I figured, screw it, lets publish what we've got for the week. :-)

I don't know if you've ever watched Hey Ash, Whatcha Playing?, but Ashley Burch can just get really crazy, and wacky. I totally imagined her mugging it up, the way she does for her crazier characters, when Chloe is play-acting being all tough, in this chapter.

Speaking of Fallout 4, Ashley voices a character in that game; a crazy, gun loving weirdo who is like the insane love child of Tiny Tina and Chloe Price. :-D

Well, have a great weekend! I hope to have the next chapter out in a week or two.


	10. Chapter 10

**August 2019**

"Chloe, I swear...as smart and as capable as you clearly are, you can be so naive sometimes."

Groaning softly as she looked over the stack of printouts on her desk, Chloe leaned heavily towards the side, hiding half her face with an outstretched palm. A couple of weeks ago, her soon-to-be father-in-law placed placed a notice in the Seattle Times officially announcing the upcoming wedding of his daughter. Somehow, a few people put two and two together, and out of nowhere, the media were overly curious about her upcoming nuptials.

"I still don't get it Maggie. Why are all these people making a big fucking deal about it? Gay marriage's been legal in Oregon for five years! This shouldn't be news! Big deal, the mayor of some little town is marrying her girlfriend. Hell, Jenny Abernathy and Kitty Johnson got married in this town last week, but they didn't have TMZ and Portland News 7 wanting a piece of the action!"

Sighing softly, and smiling with infinite patience, her personal assistant answered, "Ahhhh...the overflowing preciousness of post-Millennial youth." Maggie pulled up a chair, and sat herself down on the other side of the desk. "I can't believe I have to go over this again with you: punk, disaffected teenager rises to the challenge after her small town in Oregon is wiped out in one of the most powerful tornadoes in a century, is drafted as an Alderman, and then elected as its first mayor by the age of twenty four, all in the span of six years. Said openly gay mayor proposes to her girlfriend - a photographer and teacher who, while not tremendously famous, is becoming increasingly well-known and respected in her field - in an incredibly public way. You probably had your head spinning too fast to pay attention to the "articles of interest" that whole event generated by itself. I mean really, do I need to draw a Venn diagram, outlining all of the different aspects that by themselves are interesting enough, but joined together create outright media cat-nip?"

Chloe blinked, glancing over to the other woman, straightened up and intoned, "Uh...yeah! Yeah, make me one of those diagram things! I, your mayor, command it!" Her voice then lowered, tone becoming more sheepish as she continued, "And then make one explaining to the media why this isn't such a big deal, and that people need to get over themselves?"

It was Maggie's turn to face-palm now, as she muttered, "Chloe, seriously. I know this may be hard for you to believe, but to everyone above the age of thirty, stuff like this is still pretty damn momentous. I mean shit, when I was your age, society was 'reeling' at Roseanne Barr, Ellen Degeneres and Terry Farrell having brief little on-screen kisses, and the notion of gay marriage was a political non-starter. As much as _my_ generation is still getting used to the idea, the Boomers are just barely holding it together. Back in the Seventies, the idea of an openly gay mayor was ludicrous enough. Her being legally wed to another woman was considered the fevered dreams of an insane lunatic. At best."

Chloe couldn't help but give an impish smile as she said, "Will you hit me if I point out that old people suck?"

"Yes! Even though you have a point. For all the ways you kids drive me nuts, I can honestly say that it never ceases to amaze me how your generation has refused to wholly embrace pointless cruelty in the way that your parents and your grandparents did. I mean, you're all little shits as teenagers still, but who isn't at that age?" Pausing for a moment, Maggie continued, "But let's get back on track. This isn't going away. You're a public figure now. You're someone people _want_ to know more about. I am so sorry, Madam Mayor, but despite their better judgement, people apparently find you _interesting_."

Chloe blushed lightly, sinking down into her chair, turning half away to glance out at one of the windows. After a few seconds, she spoke softly, "Look...you know I don't care so much about the ceremony itself; I'd run off with Max in a hot minute to Vegas, and some dude dressed like Elvis can marry us in the drive thru lane at some quicki-chapel. But...but Max really wants something nice. Nothing too crazy, nothing hella elaborate or anything, but she deserves - just - just an absolutely perfect day." She turned back, narrowing her eyes, adding a little steel to her voice, "I don't want a bunch of media vultures swooping in and ruining everything."

Taking a long, measured breath, Maggie said, "Chloe...you gotta play nice with the media. You don't have to be their friend, but believe me when I say you need to show them some respect, because, fair or unfair, they can make or break you in the court of public opinion. Not being on their bad side is the bare minimum part of the job. Getting on their good side can come in reeeeeeal handy someday. You know, when re-election comes along, or if you decide to run for higher office. Hell, I've already gotten a few nibbles from the state DNC about someone talking to you; the LGBT Caucus and the Gay and Lesbian Chamber of Commerce is _begging_ for a lunch meeting with you sometime soon."

Looking thoughtful, Chloe said, "That...could be kind of cool...wait." She straightened up. "Really? Me? Well...maybe? Although seriously Maggie, there's no way I'm gonna stay in politics forever. I'm just doing this until the town can take the training wheels off. Yeah..." she started to spin around in her chair. "If I'm still here by the time I'm thirty, then clearly I've failed at something."

Leaning in close, and capturing her gaze, Maggie spoke in low tones. "Alright Chloe. I didn't want to bring out the big guns here, but clearly I need to. I want you to think about this, about how blessed you and Max actually are. You live in a small, but largely supportive community. The two of you are in an openly same-sex relationship, engaged to be married. You're the mayor of the town, and Max is a popular school teacher at a well-regarded private institution. Both of you are surrounded by friends and family who cherish, love and respect you. Do...do you seriously not see how unusual that is in this country? Even in this day and age?"

Giving her aide an incredulous look, Chloe answered, "Whaaat? C'mon. I know you grew up in the dark ages, but it's almost 2020. Gay marriage has been legal in the whole country for years, and..."

Maggie cut her off, "And large parts of the country, especially in the South, are still pissed off about that! And they're not accepting the inevitable gracefully, either. So here's the thing: there's still a lot of people in this country who are gay, but not out. They can't be; they might lose their job, or be disowned by their family, shunned by their community. Harassed at school, have their lives put in danger. A lot of kids out there are struggling, and some of them just break down...lose hope. And they feel like the only way out is - well - I don't think I need to finish that sentence."

She leaned in closer, "So you just put yourself in their shoes for a moment, okay? Pretend you're some kid in Mississippi or rural Texas or Georgia, and you've decided that you can't take the pain and humiliation and torment anymore. You're convinced it's never going to get better, and that there's no hope. You've decided you're going to end it all, even figured out how and when. But then maybe you see a story about a young woman, successful, in love, respected...even powerful, and she's free to be herself and live life the way she wants. Someone who's treated like a normal person, judged largely on their merits of their actions, and not entirely on who they love. So what if that story in the news gives you hope, even if just for one more day? Helps you dream of a better tomorrow, when you didn't even have that much just a few minutes earlier."

Chloe shifted nervously in her chair, silent for a the better part of a minute while Maggie's words sank in, slowly but surely striking home. She tried her best to be as empathetic and understanding as possible.

 _God...she..she has a point here, doesn't she? I mean, even during the worst of my punk phase, when I felt like the world was entirely against me, it wasn't really. Even when I was just aimless, I always had hope. I didn't want to admit it, but there was always some tiny glimmer that would keep me moving, keep me fighting._

 _Imagine if I didn't have even that much. And then, when poor Kate felt like the entire world was against her, and if Max hadn't gotten through to her..._

Chloe sighed out softly, bowing her head. "Damn your Vulcan logic, Mags. Fine. We'll do it. Just tell me how to start."

Maggie gave a small, heartfelt smile, reaching out to squeeze her hand. "Technically, it was an impassioned appeal to emotion. And meeting with media reps and making yourself more accessible would be a good start. They'll be much more willing to lay down rules of engagement that benefit everyone that way. Sounds like I've got a few phone calls to make?"

Nodding, Chloe rose up. "Yeah. Yeah, do it. And...thanks."

Maggie followed suit. "I'm only doing my job. Just remember this day, when I come to ask for a raise." She winked, and then turned on one heel, walking out of the office to get to work.

Chloe laughed softly to herself, then walked over to the window, staring out at the town.

Her town.

 _Still trying to fight it, aren't I? Still trying to be this crazy punk iconoclast. Can't help it, I saw so much of what power and money do to people, the way it fucking corrupts them. Blackwell and the Prescotts, all that shit. They don't remember, or hell, maybe they never understood, what it's like to be the one getting fucked over._

But she _was_ one of the people _getting_ fucked over, and survived. More than that, she lived, thrived. Kicked ass, and got to the top.

 _Who am I to hide away, and not shout out: 'Hey you guys! I did it! You can do it, too! We're all in it together!'?_

She just hoped Max understood.

Then just as quickly realized that after hearing the same explanation Maggie gave her, she'd be all but demanding that they open the wedding to the whole world.

 _Not that I'm gonna let it get_ that _far, mind you..._

* * *

 **October 2019**

Victoria squinted her eyes as they adjusted to the light, and said, "Well look who's coming up in the world. This limo come with the job, Your Ladyship?"

She and Kate walked alongside Max and Chloe as they exited the baggage claim area. In just a few days, the wedding would be upon them at last. They were all heading over to the black stretch limo that was waiting to pick them up.

Chloe smirked, "It just might. You know, under my sage...and uh...sexy leadership, Arcadia Bay is a hot and rising star these days. You know, the townspeople, they wanted to give me something gold plated, with like, neon undertrim, and a built-in hot tub - practically demanded it - but I said..." and at this, Chloe brought the back of her hand to her forehead, and continued in a melodramatic tone, "No! Please! I know you love me, but that's money that could be better spent on orphans and war widows. I won't allow your obvious and understandable worship of my awesomeness get the better of you! Just buy me the most modest, reasonably priced stretch limo you can find, and I will happily make do."

Max gave her a smack on her rear and laughed, "Oh God, listen to you! You know damn well that you rented this limo, you big fake. You don't even have a town car."

Yelping with a bit of a leap, Chloe reached over, starting to tickle Max in retaliation, "Heyyyy! Don't spoil it, I'm trying to look hella awesome in front of the cooool kids." She glanced back at the other two. "Besides, all you have to do is ask me how town business is going, and then...I get to write it off as a promotional expense."

Max clearly wasn't buying any of it, "Uh huh. 'Promotional expense...'"

"Sure! Sure...uh...I have a respected gallery owner coming in from Seattle." Chloe pointed over to Victoria, "As well as a children's author who's gaining national acclaim. Just trying to wine and dine them, wheel and deal, trick them into coming back and settling down into the new and improved Chloe-style Arcadia Bay."

Chloe regretted it, at least some of what she said, the moment the words came out of her mouth. This was the first time in six years that Victoria was returning to Arcadia Bay; after her experience with Mark Jefferson, Nathan's death, and the devastation of the storm, she didn't hang around any longer than she had to. Like many of the students in the class of 2014, she transferred out, and finished up her last year of high school elsewhere.

She could see the slight shiver that went through Victoria, although the other woman still managed to laugh it off. Chloe then felt herself being playfully poked in the ribs as Victoria said, "Sure! You can buy me some surf and turf and a bottle of Dom, and I'll be more than happy to listen to your sales pitch for Losertown, USA."

Though she knew it was said in jest, Chloe couldn't help but feel a surge of anger well up inside her. As much as she might protest otherwise, she was proud of what Arcadia Bay had accomplished over the past six years; she might have played a big role in all of that, but she sure as fuck didn't do it alone.

 _Okay, Chloe, just chill. Tori's only giving as good as she's getting. She's not the same bitch she once was. So just...yeah. There. Cool. Old Chloe would have totally gotten up in her face about it, new Chloe's gonna roll with the punches._

The chauffeur moved to open the rear doors of the limo, and the four of them piled in as the luggage was put into the trunk for them. Chloe then leaned in, "Well, no surf and turf, but how about Greek fusion? There's a restaurant in town that got a twenty-eight on the Zagat guide. I...had no idea what that meant, originally, but I had my _personal assistant_ Maggie look it up for me, and she tells me that means we're one point better than any restaurant in Portland right now."

Victoria gave a genuine smile now, "Wow, Chloe. You didn't tried to land a punch on me after that. You've changed. I mean, and not just with the hair, which I love by the way...pixie cuts are totally coming back again. I guess executive power suits you." She then gave Max a knowing smirk. "That, or the hot, hot lesbian lovin'."

Chloe stretched and out and placed her hands behind her head. "Don't knock it til you've tried it, preppie."

Waggling her eyebrows and crossing her legs, Victoria purred. "How do you know I haven't?" She then turned to Kate, "Why, just this morning on the flight over, I had to hold sweetie Katie at bay, so desperate was she to join the mile high club."

Kate blushed deeply at this, giving a soft smack on Victoria's shoulder with the back of her hand. "You are just the worst sometimes!" Turning to Chloe and Max, she said, "You'll have to excuse her, the bloody mary she had on the plane clearly went to her head."

Chloe snerked. "Lightweight."

 _Man, I know Victoria and Kate aren't anything more than best buds, but am I the only one in this limo kinda shipping them together in my head? Talk about a weird combination! But sweet, too._

"Oh please, Tori, you're not fooling anyone." Max jumped in, with a laugh. "I know for a fact you don't know the Lesbian World Conspiracy secret handshake, and as the treasurer for my local chapter of the LWC, I haven't seen you on any of our mailing lists. Pooooser!"

"Naturally. Because I'm part of the Bavarian Bisexual Illuminati. We have _way_ better parties than you." Victoria countered.

Most of the remainder of the trip back to Arcadia Bay was made up of similarly playful banter. It wasn't until they got to the town limits that Chloe thumbed the intercom, and asked the chauffeur. "Hey...it's Betina, right? Mind driving through downtown? Take it nice and slow, if you would?"

Another few minutes, and Chloe opened up the sunroof. She then suddenly stood up, poking out until the roof was up to her chest. Motioning over to Victoria, she said, "C'mon up, Tori. Kate's gotten the sales pitch before, so _you_ get to see the all-new, totally-improved Arcadia Bay.

The other woman rose up, peeking out and peering around. As they slowly passed through the main business district, Chloe pointed out all of the new and colorful businesses that sprung up in town over the past half decade.

"Is that a pie shop?" Victoria asked at one point.

Chloe said, "Yup. Pie. Nothing but. Two Whales stopped making their own, and just get it from this place now."

"I love it...the art deco design is ultra-cute. I'm usually not such a big fan of retro, but this has an adorable feel. Oh my God, and that cafe, with the flower beds? Geez, and everything has solar panels. And the brick sidewalks? Damn, mayor, you went and turned this shitty little fishing village into Williamsburg with a soul. I don't know whether to hate you overtly, or feign even-closer friendship while secretly smoldering with jealous hatred instead."

"You know, there is a new space coming up on the market, right...over there." Chloe pointed. "Might make a good place, if you felt like moving your gallery, or just branching oooouut..."

Victoria blinked, clearly caught off guard. Drumming her fingers nervously on the roof of the limo, she murmured, "Oh...um. I...don't know. I mean, it's been a long time, but I'm not sure I'm up for this place in the long term. You know? I've made a lot of progress since that time, but if it weren't for the wedding, I don't know if I would've ever come back."

Chloe shrugged. "Fair enough. Now you have the whole week to figure it out, right? But I'll say this: Max and I kinda stumbled onto the notion a while ago, that the best way to kill all the bad old memories is by making good new ones in the same spot. And it's not like you'd be alone. You know like, what if you and Max opened up a gallery together?"

Snorting softly, Victoria said, "Ha, is this your thing now, with the hard sale? I don't remember you being this focused the year or two we actually had classes together."

"Just looking out for my wife-to-be's interests. I know you two are tight, and she'd love it if you were closer than in Seattle. I know maybe you got some weird professional rivalry code going on, but at the same time, you both have different styles in the pictures you take, so why couldn't you have a joint place, together? Besides, I see you, Victoria Chase. Coveting a cup of fair trade coffee from the artisanal cafe we're passing by. They have the absolute best hot chocolate, takes me a whole three hours to finish off a single cup..."

"Shit, you really wanna write this limo off as a business expense, huh?" Victoria said with a smile.

"Not that I don't, but I'd still be saying all this if I couldn't. God help me, I actually kinda like this town now. I'd probably be selling it to you, even if I wasn't bound by the town charter to be totally gay for the Bay." Chloe snapped her fingers. "Oh holy shit! I gotta run that one by the town Chamber of Commerce sometime!"

Victoria canted her head to the side and hmmmed, narrowing her eyes as she looked over the remainder of the downtown shops in an appraising fashion. "Alright, Lady Price. Assuming we have time, I might have to take a closer look at what Arcadia Bay has to offer now."

* * *

As the two of them continued to chat, Max and Kate caught up in the limo proper.

"Oh dog, look at her." Max laughed, glancing up, and occasionally tickling Chloe's leg. "For years, she protests about not wanting to get sucked into politics, and trying to get away from this town, and here she is, like a Mama showing off her new baby. Hard to believe this is the same woman who used to talk about bombing this place to the ground."

Kate smiled. "You must be so proud of her, Max. Chloe's become a really amazing person. This town has changed so much, and I can't help but think that through all the terrible tragedy, the pain and the death, it's obvious that God has a plan for everyone. And...and you've been a good influence on her too." She laughed. "I'd say we've all come a long way from those dark days."

Max reached over, and squeezed Kate's hand. "Okay, enough about me, for cereal. Kate! I haven't seen you in like six months! What the hell are you up to? Is it all work work work on your books? Which are amazing, by the way! I mean, I don't normally go for kids books obviously, but I love your style!"

"Thanks! As a matter of fact, I'm just about to start on a new one." Kate began. "About marriage. Marriages, plural. You know, because there've been so many people out there who want to claim a narrow definition of it. People who mean well, of course! But...but they have trouble seeing that love is love, no matter what. Because, when I look at you and Chloe, I see what you mean to each other, what you've been through, the strength you give to each other. The way you make each other better. That is so sacred and holy and...I just wish people would focus on the substance, and less on the style. But..." she sighed. "If it was an easy path to walk, everyone would be doing it. So maybe you'll let me sketch you and Chloe together sometime for it?"

Max swallowed back a small lump in her throat. "Kate..." She reached up to wipe at her eyes and laughed softly. "You know, you're really too perfect sometimes. Thank you. I just...I'm so glad you and Tori are here. I wish more of the old gang were around and..." she bit down on her lip.

"Hmmm. I think I remember our discussion from last time. I know you invited Warren. Did he...?"

"He RSVPed. Declined. Wouldn't say why but...I mean, I heard from his Mom, he got a bit better, but I guess it sounds like he's hit a plateau, and he's going to be on some kind of disability for the rest of his life. He still has a lot of anger though and..." She bowed her head, and added in a quiet voice, "I guess past all the new shops, and the new lives, it's almost become too easy to forget about all the people who died, or worse."

A brief, but awkward silence passed between them, before Max shifted topics. "So. All this love in the air...what about you, Kate? You ever think about settling down?"

At this, a small but glowing smile spread across Kate's lips. "Actually, yes. There's a man I've been having coffee and dinner with lately."

"What? Dish! Dish now, woman!" Max exclaimed.

With a light blush, Kate looked down, still smiling, "His name is Mordecai. There's this interfaith social group that I regularly attend at the Unitarian church near my apartment. After everything that happened to me at Blackwell, I thought it was really important to keep broadening my worldview, and this has been a big part of it. The first time I met him, it was ...I'm not sure what to say...embarrassing? He does a lot of volunteer work with suicide prevention, and he'd already heard about our story, Max. You and me, the day you saved my life. I guess it's gotten some promotion over the years. Not that I'm ashamed, or reluctant to share, but it's still a deeply personal, and somewhat painful moment for me. But he was very respectful about it, even gushing about how brave you were, and how strong I was to come back from we got to talking, and then we got to talking some more. Oh! Hold on! I have a picture."

Bringing up the photo on her cell phone, Kate held it up for her to see.

 _Ooh! He_ is _cute!_ _Looks sweet, obviously takes care of himself. I wouldn't expect him to be so slim and muscular. But..._

It was the auburn beard and the long curls of hair in the front that made her ask.

"Kate...uh...I don't know a way to ask this without sounding weird about it, so I'm just going to do it: is he Jewish?"

Clearly anticipating the question, the other woman beamed, "Yes he is. He's a Messianic Jew. He's been teaching me so much about his culture and his beliefs, and...and I have to admit, I've recently been giving serious thought to converting."

Max blinked. "Wowser. Ha ha, wow. I haven't said 'wowser' in years, that just goes to show how stunned I am. I mean, not that I have any problems either way, but that sounds like a huge change."

"It's really not, Max, when you think about it." Kate explained. "Jesus was Jewish. He lived as a Jew, he died as a Jew. His Last Support was a Passover Seder. I think it was about a month ago, after Mordecai asked me to go to synagogue services with him, that I sat there, and I was struck by this sudden realization that if I truly wanted to better understand my Lord, the things that shaped Him and His people throughout His life, this was a path I needed to strongly consider. So I am, at the very least, considering it. If I do this, I want it to be for the right reasons, and be very respectful about it. And...and if things continued to work out between us, and someday, if we were to be married, I'd like for us to be as one in our shared love of Christ."

"Okay. Your parents. I'm sorry Kate, but I have to ask..."

Kate laughed, reaching over to give Max a gentle hug. "It's okay. I don't mind talking about it, not with you. My father's been the same wonderful man he's always been. He actually met Mordecai last month, and while they have a couple differences of opinion, it's clear they respect, and even like each other a lot. My sisters don't quite understand how one can be both Jewish and a follower of Christ, but they constantly remind me how cute he is, and what a nice couple we make. My mother?" She looked away, and let out a sad sigh. "We're commanded to honor our parents, Max. But I would be lying if I said that things got much better after what happened six years ago. I don't know if it's guilt or pride that drives her. I've told her many times I forgave her a long time back, but..." she shook her head. "I'm my own woman, Max. I love her, and perhaps in time, she'll actually believe that. But my relationship with Mordecai has brought back an unfortunately ugly side of her. One I hoped was gone forever."

Max reached out and squeezed Kate's hand yet again. "You're an amazing person, Kate. One of the most special people I've ever met. If your Mom is having trouble seeing that...well...it's her loss. And sad, I guess. You'd think after everything we've all gone through since the storm, we'd all see how important family and friends are. But..." She shrugged. "Anyhow. You're here. It's going to be a great week, an amazing wedding, and...and damnit! Call him, and make him come down here? He's invited, this guy of yours. He...he can be one of Chloe's groomsmen or something. She needs more of those."

Kate giggled, "Thank you. I didn't want to assume. And it's very short notice, but from Seattle, he could easily drive down. I...I think you'd really like him, Max!"

Suddenly, Victoria and Chloe zoomed down from above, slumping back into their seats. "Hey nerds, whatcha talking about?" Chloe asked.

"Deep, girly shit you stupid cool kids wouldn't understand!" Max replied, sticking out her tongue at Chloe.

"Hey! Don't stick it out unless you're going to use it."

Max jumped over, straddling Chloe's lap, running her fingers through her hair. "Oh yeah, what're you gonna do if I don't?"

"...beg?"

"Oooooh, poor baby. Okay, kisses for you." As Max leaned in, planting a firm, sweet liplock on her fiancee, Victoria rolled her eyes, placing a finger in her mouth and making retching noises as she gave a meaningful look at Kate.

"It'll be your turn next, Victoria." Kate said with a smile. "Sooner or later."

Leaning back and crossing her arms, the blonde gave a derisive snort. "Not in a rush to get tied down anytime soon. Or ever, thank you very much. I'll leave that to the professionals."

Max gave her friend a knowing look. "I'll remember that, in like a year or two, when we're driving in a limo, and getting ready for _your_ wedding."

Victoria shook her head, giving a defiant smile. "Nope. Nope nope. Always a bridesmaid, never a bride. Sounds like a good plan to me."

Chloe gave Max another kiss on the hollow of her throat, then nudged Victoria.

"The harder you fight it, the harder you're gonna end up falling."

Victoria glanced out the window, as the limo slowed to a halt, gazing at the fancy restaurant that awaited the four of them.

"Don't hold your breath, guys. Just saying..."

* * *

 ** _A/N:_** Hey guys.

Is it weird that I was in such a crazy writing jag for so long that even a week and a half feels like a distant eternity? Work and the holidays conspire to keep me from writing, but I am doing my best to stay in the saddle, even if I end up writing smaller chapters - which is why I was originally thinking we'd get to the wedding by this chapter, but it will be the next one instead.

I've written for Kate before, but not at length; I still find it very strange to do so. Doubly so for Victoria, even though I once wrote a whole fic from her POV. So my apologies if this all comes off a little odd.

Oh God! I almost forgot to mention that half this chapter was inspired by the comments made by Candle In The Night. Thank you so much for the support and feedback! You are the best!

I'm hoping to get at least one more chapter in before the end of the year. Thanks for all your support guys, and to you folks out in these United States, have a great Thanksgiving!


	11. Chapter 11

**October 11th, 2019**

Chloe sighed with sublime satisfaction as she looked out over the sweeping, sunlit scope of Arcadia Bay.

 _Perfect. Absolutely perfect. Thank you God, for actually coming through today._

It was pleasantly warm for early autumn, although the clear skies guaranteed plunging temperatures once the sun set. But for now, just a bit past noon, the light was warming without being scorching. Which given Chloe's attire, she was wholly grateful for.

Max wanted to do something different for their wedding ceremony. Something 'fun', but meaningful at the same must have bounced a million ideas back and forth in a creative maelstrom, but when they finally arrived at their final choice, it seemed so obvious.

The theme was "We Can Be Heroes: A Celebration of Love and Triumph." At least, that was how the public announcement was titled. Now painfully aware, thanks to Maggie's constant prodding, that this was as much a public spectacle as it was a private occasion, Max and Chloe chose something that was not only enjoyable for them and their friends, but that the public could take if not pride, then at least good-natured amusement in. Not only was it their wedding day, but the sixth anniversary of the megastorm; the day would be largely festive, with time taken in for solemn remembrance of those who never lived to see this day.

 _Gotta admit, part of me was afraid this was going to be too much for her; that Max'd kind of freak out, that the guilt would pile on as we got closer to today. But she's in a good place, at least when I saw her last night. Serves me right for ever doubting her in the slightest._

Max was being a bit of a traditionalist, insisting that the two of them not lay eyes upon each other until the wedding, going as far as playfully kicking Chloe out of the house to stay with her parents Thursday night.

In keeping with the theme, Max, Chloe, and the bridal parties would be dressed up as various comic book heroes and heroines, with all those in attendance encouraged to follow suit, though obviously not required. Some of the audience - such as Steven Exeter - had been invited out of social obligation and expectation, and he did not seem particularly amused by the less-than-solemn atmosphere. Glenda O'Meara, still the town's largest employer, was being a good sport about it; her dressing as Doctor Light amused the hell out of Chloe.

 _Nice pun. Glenda's either a secret comic geek, or she's getting good advice from someone._

Chloe, with her short black hair, cut a striking figure as Zatanna, decked to the nines in the stage magician's trademark tuxedo outfit, with a black and white bodice, fishnets, high heeled boots, and bolero dress jacket.

 _The top hat's a little too much maybe? But that's the best part, damnit!_

She glanced over her shoulder to David, in full Batman regalia. Her step-father was never a fan of comic books, but at the same time, was clearly enjoying the chance to play 'dress up'. It was a fitting choice, and Max apparently had a long, bemused talk with Joyce about how appropriate it was for someone in a wheelchair to decide to be Batgirl.

"You have no idea how many permits the state made me obtain to pull this off, Big D." Chloe murmured. "Even for the mayor of Oregon's fasting growing town. But damn if that view doesn't make all the work worth it.

David chuckled. "You mean, all the work Maggie did for you?"

Chloe crooked her lips in a impish grin. "It's called delegation. It's what us mayor types do." She turned towards him now, as they stood at the dais near the edge of the cliff, waiting for the wedding ceremony to begin. She took another deep breath - at least as deep as her restrictive outfit would allow for - and then slowly let it bleed out.

"Can you imagine? That we'd ever be at this point?" she asked.

"What? That you'd be getting married, or that I'd be your best man?" David replied.

She laughed. "Both."

David gave a slight shrug, which prompted a faint creaking noise from his outfit. "Yeah. I can imagine. I mean...we've been at 'peace' now longer than we were at 'war', right?

"Yeah." Chloe said with a smile. "But don't get a swelled head about it; I only picked you to be my best man because...frankly, I don't have any other friends to take the role." She softened the blow by reaching over and giving her stepfather a one-armed hug, making it clear that she was joking. Mostly.

David mock-growled, "Yeah, well it's not like I've got any other daughters getting married anytime soon." He then took a gentler tone, and said, "Chloe...I know I'm not William. But I also know he'd be so proud of you, and what you've accomplished. And he'd no doubt approve of who you're settling down with, too. But I'm just as proud of you, kid. Thank you...for sharing this day with me. It means the world to me."

Chloe swallowed back at the lump rising up in her throat, and hugged David tightly. She then glanced up and said, "You know, I'm tempted to hand down a new order to the police department. Can you imagine it, everyone dressed up like Batman?"

They both laughed as Michelle Grant walked up to take her place as the officiator; an ordained minister in the Unitarian church, she'd graciously accepted Chloe's request to see Max and her wed; given that she had a foot in each of their worlds, as a town alderman and a teacher at Blackwell, it seemed appropriately fitting.

"Ms. Grant!" Chloe turned to hug her in greeting. "Hey! Just in time but...uh?" She regarded the older woman, who wore a sharp blue business suit. "I thought you said you were going to dress to theme?"

Michelle smiled. "As popular as comic book movies and television shows are these days, Chloe, I still know nothing about them. One of my nephews was kind enough to make a suggestion: apparently, I'm someone named Amanda Waller, who he assured me would be..."

"...that is so cool! You're The Wall!" Chloe unintentionally interrupted, her exuberance getting the best of her. "Sorry! Yeah, she was the best, in those old episodes of Justice League Unlimited! Kinda fitting..." she glanced between her and David, "...'cause she was one of the few people would give freak out Batman. Kinda-sorta."

Michelle smiled good-naturedly. "Well, glad to see it was so well-received. I imagine we'll be starting in a few minutes?"

"Yeah. Barely five, maybe less? God, I hope Jeff shows up, he's pretty much the only other guy I have for my side of the wedding party."

As if on cue, Jeff Stevens, her old boss from back in her construction days, ran up, wearing an odd outfit consisting of a baseball catcher's chest pad, miner's helmet, jeans and kneepads, heavy gloves, and shovel strapped to his back.

It only took Choe a few seconds before it clicked in her brain. She pointed and exclaimed with glee, "Ooooh holy shit! You're The Shoveler from Mystery Men! Ha ha!" They fist bumped each other, and Jeff smiled wide. "Hey, you got it! I loved that film, although you were like what, a baby when it came out?"

"Five, but yeah. So what? I wasn't born when Star Wars was first out, but that doesn't mean I don't know and love that film either."

"Rock on. Thanks for asking me to be a groomsman, Chloe. Uh...is that the right term. For this sort of thing?"

She shrugged and snorted. "Works for me. Not gonna get hung up on labels. But yeah...thanks for coming." They gave each other a hug.

Chloe stood, trying not to fidget too much. She glanced over at the audience, which was at least a hundred people strong, if not twice that number; Chloe had wanted to open up the ceremony to the entire town, a notion both Maggie - currently milling about, dressed up as the Invisible Woman and chatting up some of the VIPs - and Max shot down. Still, Maggie went the distance, making sure that a good cross section of the town was represented.

There was a part of Chloe that still wished her wedding day could be so much smaller than this. No more than her, Max, maybe a few friends and family members. There was a side of her that chafed at the notion of somehow belonging to something much larger than herself, but...

 _...we can always do a cute little Vegas wedding another day, right? Why not? A wedding's more like a party for everyone else. It's not just about the people getting married, weird as that seems._

The string quartet in the background suddenly stirred to action, beginning to play a rendition of the Superman Movie Theme - the old Seventies classic, not one of the disappointing modern reboots - arranged as a wedding march. The crowd at the back parted, and Max was revealed at last, dressed in white leather and fishnet, with a matching bodice, opera-length gloves, and knee high boots. A white gauzy veil was gathered about her head, her hair bleached a bright, brassy blonde. She was tightly clutching a bouquet of roses, looking equal parts overjoyed and sick to her stomach, her social anxiety clearly warring with the delighted glow of what was shortly to come.

 _H-holy shit! I get it! She's Black Canary when she was getting married to Green Arrow!_

It was one of Chloe's favorite issues, circa 2007, back when she was still actively collecting. It'd been one of Max's favorites as well.

She was absolutely radiant; Chloe was stunned, her heart skipping beats. For a few moments in time, she had eyes only for Max, her beloved. Her best friend. Her true love. It was as if the world was theirs and theirs alone. The tunnel vision that seized her slowly lifted, and she started to take note of the others escorting her wife-to-be up to the dais.

Ryan was there, of course, giving the bride away. A big-ass secret geek at heart, he was absolutely overjoyed at the creative direction his daughter and soon-to-be daughter-in-law chose for their wedding; Chloe had to admit he went whole hog, and made a really awesome looking Iron Man, wearing the entire getup, sans the helmet. Vanessa strode along by Max's other side, dressed as Wonder Woman.

 _Damn! Way to rock the amazon garb!_

Kate, as the Maid of Honor, followed next, holding up Max's train behind her. Comics weren't her thing, but she seemed to gravitate towards the character of The Huntress. As she explained to Chloe earlier...

" _I don't approve of the violence but it's a modest outfit for something skin tight? And I like that she's a rare character with a religious conviction!"_

Victoria had to be talked out of her original idea, which was to dress up like Emma Frost. Fortunately, she cut just as stunning a figure as Captain Marvel, in the newer red, blue and gold bodysuit with the mandarin collar.

" _So much more fashion-forward than whatever the hell that black unitard thing was supposed to be!"_

Chloe locked eyes with Max at last; she had to fight the almost violent urge to giggle with glee, and it must have shown, given how painfully wide she felt herself smile. Max returned the grin, quickly reaching up to dash away a few happy tears from her eyes. She and her father finally arrived at the dais. She leaned in to kiss his cheek, and they hugged, before Max turned to do the same thing with her mother. Chloe reached out a hand to her father-in-law to be, and he instead insisted on pulling her into an absolutely crushing hug, before tweaking her top hat playfully.

Chloe took her place, looking down at Max, and laughed softly again. The two of them started to whisper to each other at the same time.

"Oh my God, you look hella..." Chloe began

"...totes amazing, for cereal!" Max concluded.

Chloe wanted to kiss her, right then and there. Get the rings on, get the vows said, and start her life as a Missus.

 _Now now now, damnit!_

She reached up and over, tenderly brushing the back of her fingers against Max's cheek. Her heart seized pleasurably in her chest as Max captured her hand, keeping it held against her face as she nuzzled affectionately in return.

The air clicked with the snapping of cameras, as Chloe mouthed silently, "I love you so much right now."

"I know, bitch." Max teasingly, silently replied, winking before tracing just the merest wisp of her tongue tip against her upper lip.

Chloe took a deep breath; it was exactly the sort of coquettish expression Max had perfected over the years, designed to completely reduce her to jelly. She almost might have fallen to her knees and simply professed undying love and servitude had Michelle not cleared her throat, and said with a smile. "Well, let's get started then, shall we?"

Waiting until the music drew to a close, and the murmuring of the audience fell to an appropriate hush, Michelle raised her hands to chest level and said, projecting her voice outward, "Cherished family, beloved friends, and honored guests. I thank you, one and all, for gathering here today to bear witness to the union of these two two women, Chloe Price and Maxine Caulfield. It has been my proud privilege to not only watch them grow from adolescence into adulthood, but also to work side by side with them. Chloe, of course, originally as a fellow Alderman, and then as the first mayor of Arcadia Bay." At this, Chloe felt the heat rise to her cheeks at the cheers and applause at this, so grateful she was keeping her gaze fixed solely on Max.

"And Max, first as a student, and then as one of Blackwell's finest teachers."

A few of Max's favorite students were in attendance, and made their feelings known. At the top of their lungs.

"Ms. Caulfield! We love yoooou! Wooo!"

Max shifted nervously from foot to foot, not an easy thing given the heels on her boots, and tried her best to keep from bursting out into nervous laughter

 _Holy fuck, those girls can shriek. Wow...were_ we _ever that young? Oh shit, I'm already starting to ask questions like that. Damnit, I'm only twenty-five!_

"'Fairytale romance' is a phrase many consider overused," Michelle continued, "but I can't think of a more fitting description for the relationship between these two. Like all truly great love stories, theirs started out with deep friendship. And while time and distance pulled them apart on multiple occasions, they always found their way unerringly back to each other. I wouldn't say that Chloe and Max fell in love so much as they started out that way from the first day; the passing of years naturally transforming that love from the purely platonic into something far deeper."

Chloe felt herself vibrating from head to toe, acting on impulse and taking Max's free hand in her own. Darting her eyes over to the left, she smirked to herself, seeing both Vanessa and Joyce weeping, wide smiles on their faces.

"Max and Chloe have written their own vows, and I invite the two of them to recite those now."

Chloe had to fight the urge to simply toss Max over her shoulder, scream out "I'll take her!" and then run off to begin the rest of their life together as quickly as possible. She felt marvelously ill, gloriously nauseous. She was seized with an awful burning she fervently prayed would never end.

 _Okay...okay. I can do this. Oh...shit. Wait...I forget...who was supposed to go first...oh. Oh hell! It was me! Ha, God, I look like a fucking moron right now and..._

Chloe blushed, a soft ripple of laughter from the unintentional, overlong pause. She wet her lips and recited the words she'd committed to memory, reminiscing in the struggle to craft something that conveyed even a fraction of her feelings for the woman in front of her.

 _You know, hella babbling like an idiot._

"Max Caulfield, you have been so many things to me over the years. Best friend, first mate, superhero and sidekick, partner in crime. Mistress of time and space. Lover, teacher...beautiful photo nerd." Another soft peal of laughter arose from the audience. "You are my shining star, my angel. Time and circumstance tore us apart, and it seemed for the longest time like we'd never see each other again. But fate brought us back together, just as the tide always returns to the shore. I ah...I was in a real deep, dark place when we found each other again, six years ago. But we fell back into our groove so quickly, like no time passed at all. You gave me hope...you gave me love. But most importantly, you gave me..." her throat tightened, threatening to close. "...courage."

Blinking the tears from her eyes, Chloe took a deep breath, and willed herself to continue. "You will always be the guiding star that I turn my ship towards. I am yours, for as long as you will have me. Body and soul. For all of our years, unto eternity."

Max squeezed her hand tightly, her smile beaming brighter than the moon in the darkest night. They began to drift closer to each other, without meaning to.

"Chloe Price," Max breathed out, almost too soft to be heard at first. Clearing her throat and finding her voice. "I'd never been in love before you...and I can't imagine that I'll ever be in love again. You are my heart's home. Five years is a hell of a long time to press pause on a friendship, but we came back to each other...we pressed play together, and let destiny take care of the rest. You make me laugh, you make me sing. You are the first thought I have when I wake up, and the last person on my mind when I go to sleep. You are...annoying, and bratty, and patient and giving and terrible and wonderful. You are my gorgeous paradox. We've seen each other at our worst as well as our best, and yet, here we still are, together. Life saw fit to send so many challenges our way, but together, we overcame them two of us joined as one are unstoppable. Without you in my life, I am...I'm..." she swallowed hard, eyes wet, and shook her head, "...shit, I had this!"

She blushed, hiding her face behind her bouquet at the good natured laughter that overtook everyone in the crowd.

Dropping her hand, she said, "Damnit Chloe, you are mine, plain as that." she giggled and pantomimed stamping her foot down, like an obstinate eight year old having the last word, before concluding, "And...I am yours, for as long as you will have me. Body and soul. For all our years, unto eternity."

 _Oh...oh Max! You are so adorable right now, it's breaking my heart! I love you! I simply...love you!_

David had to poke her a good two or three times before she came back to her senses. Dazed, as if waking from a dream, she worked on autopilot, receiving the ring from her stepfather, and then working it onto Max's left ring finger. Max bit down on her bottom lip, as she quickly took the ring Kate offered her, following suit and placing it on Chloe's finger in return.

Like the rest of the wedding, the rings themselves were custom crafted with a superheroic theme in mind: Max wore the symbol of the Star Sapphires, a white-gold band encrusted with amethysts; Chloe sported a chunky platinum-titanium Green Lantern band, with a decent sized emerald in the center.

Michelle spoke up, "Just as our famous lighthouse guided ships into our welcoming harbor for so many years in the past, so too do we hope that the the light of Max and Chloe's love will serve as an inspiring beacon to others, for years to come." She then gave a meaningful look to each of them. "I believe this is the part you kids have been waiting for."

Reach down and cupping Max's cheek, Chloe thought to guide her gently into a deep, firm, heartfelt kiss. She gave a yelp of surprise, finding all of those plans being immediately tossed out the window, as Max encircled her with eager arms. She somehow managed to dip her low, enough so that the top hat fell off, into a passionate, scorching, all-consuming smooch, tongue practically forcing it's way past lips that were more than happy to accept.

After a few seconds, Max confidently pulled her back onto her tottering feet. There were hoots, catcalls, cheers and applause. Kate wept openly, unable to help herself as she hugged them both. Even Victoria smiled through exasperated tears, planting a kiss on each of their cheeks.

Chloe thread the fingers of her left hand through Max's, letting the rings clink against each other. Then leaned in to whisper, "Holy shit, woman! You win at The Wedden-ing! And I thought I was the 'boy' in this relationship."

Max waggled her brows, leaned in close, nipping at her earlobe, and breathed out, "What can I say, baby? I'm an _uke_ on the streets, a _seme_ in the sheets."

Chloe bit down hard to keep from dissolving into hysterical laughter as Michelle concluded, holding out her hands towards the pair. "Ladies and gentleman, I give you the Price-Caulfields."

* * *

The reception was in full swing at the Elk's Club, the only facility large enough to hold all of the merrymaking guests in attendance; even then, it was practically fit to bursting. The buffet was a big hit, with a little something for everyone. Spirits were incredibly high through the rest of the afternoon, and well into the evening. Along with the invited guests, well wishers from the town passed in and out over the course of the reception, Chloe and Max gratefully receiving everyone who came to pay their respects and heartfelt joy, as if they were local royalty.

 _I suppose that's exactly what we are! At least for today._

Max and Chloe shared their first dance immediately after the meal. They tangoed - Chloe would forever deny how much initial difficulty she had with the dancing lessons the two of them took - to Roxy Music's "Love Is The Drug." Max apparently developed an appreciation for Seventies and Eighties New Wave during her time in San Francisco. The song wasn't anything Chloe was familiar with it, but she was immediately hooked on the idea after the first time Max played it for her.

Karaoke was the next activity of the hour, as various guests took turns regailing the others with their singing talent, or lack thereof

" _I'll send you myyy love on a wire. Lit you up, every time! Everyone, ooooh, pulls away, ooooh!"_

Chloe belted out her best rendition of Metric's Black Sheep.

"Oh my God, sweetie, that's literally the only song you ever try when we do karoke!" Max teased.

"It's because I know I sound damn good every time I sing it!" Chloe poked back.

For her number, Max forced Chloe to sit in a chair in the middle of the dance floor as she serenaded her, warbling out La Roux's "Tigerlily" while she alternated between cozying up in Chloe's lap and strutting around as she sang at the top of her lungs.

"Damnit..." Chloe breathed out. "...I humbly submit to your obvious superiority, woman."

"Of course you do." Max answered. "I'm your wife, after all."

Chloe grinned giddily. "Oh yeah. That's right! Yaaay!" she playfully cheered, before stealing yet another kiss.

Victoria busted out a surprisingly good set of pipes, dedicating Madonna's "Hanky Panky" to the happy couple, and confirming that if photography ever failed to pan out, she had a potential career ahead of her as a Vegas lounge act. But it was Kate, with her heartfelt, soulful rendition of Mary Lambert's "She Keeps Me Warm" that brought a tear to their eyes.

Eventually, Kate, Max and Chloe were roped into a rendition of the Spice Girls "Wannabe" by Victoria, who harbored a secret, shameful soft spot in her heart for the act. They all tried their best to be good sports about it, but eventually all devolved into hysterical giggles, especially after Chloe shrugged her shoulders and asked the audience with exasperation, "What the hell is a zig-a-zig-ah?"

The evening dissolved into a warm blissful haze as it wore on, and Chloe couldn't help but feel that at long last, the ghosts of the past, the scars left on the town by the passing of the tornado, not to mention the horror visited upon the populace by Nathan Prescott and Mark Jefferson were finally being laid to rest. At one point, she vaguely recalled John Bartley, dressed fittingly as Thor, coming by and all but crushing the wind out of her with a massive bear hug. His wife Jenny, appropriately complimenting him as Sif, handed Max a few fancy looking bottles, and explained, "It's mead! Please enjoy it...John and I brew it ourselves!"

Somewhere, around eleven thirty, Chloe realized that Max wasn't anywhere to be found. Operating on a hunch, she managed to stagger out the back door, where she found the other woman hugging herself against the cold. She immediately wrapped her arms around her wife.

"Hey," she whispered out. "Thought I might find you out here. Everything okay?"

Max smiled, and nodded rapidly. "Even better, now that you're here. Sorry though just...crowd. Got to be a little too crazy, overwhelming. Didn't want to drag you away. FIgured you'd find me, yeah? And you did."

Chloe leaned in, nuzzling noses together and then covering her face with a thousand tiny kisses.

"S'okay, babydoll. I understand. Way the crowd is carrying on in there, everyone's gonna be going til dawn. I mean, I like to hella party, but god damn, yo! So yeah, let's just...chill a moment." She reached into one of her jacket pockets, and removed a hash oil vape pen, holding it out to Max. "Avadra Kedavra, Ala-shazam, etc etc."

Max gratefully accepted it, sucking in a large lungful. She breathed out, the vapor mixing with the condensation of her warm breath, and teased, "You're Zatanna. You gotta say it backwards. That's your thing."

Chloe blinked. "Uhhh...ash-hay en-pay...ummm."

"That's Pig Latin, dork." Max laughed, gently headbutting her.

Chloe took her own hit, and breathed out calmly.

"You know what, Mrs. Caulfield?"

"What, Mrs. Price?" Max asked, eyes shining.

"People always say shit like 'Oh! This is the happiest day of my life! Yadda yadda.'when they get married. But...damn, it's true, you know. Today? Here with you. This amazing vibe flowing in the air. I just want to bottle it, save it, make it last forever somehow. Uh, so, you sure your time power didn't come back, just a little? So you can't rewind, take us back, and make this last a whole week?"

Max wrapped her arms around Chloe's neck and smirked. "No, dummy. Believe me, if I did get it again, I would have used it to buy more prep time for the wedding!" She sighed delicately and reached over to brush her thumb over Chloe's lips. "Me too though, Che. Part of the reason I had to get out of there was because...you know...afraid I was going to burst out crying from being so happy. Like it's so good right at this moment, it literally hurts."

"Yeah...but it hurts so good. This is probably the best I've ever felt in my life, baby."

"Mmmm...well. You know what? The best is still to come."

Suddenly Chloe acted on impulse, leaning down and scooping Max up into her arms, spinning her around, barely managing to keep on her feet. Max shrieked with delight in response, gently kicking out her legs.

They kissed again, absolutely love-drunk. Chloe husked out against her ear. "I think I found a utility closet that locks from the inside. Wanna see if we can get in a quickie before we rejoin the crowd?"

Max gave her a meaningful gaze, and then snorted. "Fuck yeah I wanna quickie!"

Chloe struggled a bit to carry Max back into the lodge, over the threshold. Once she made it back inside, she put her back down on her feet, stroked her hair, and then whispered. "I love you with all my heart, dear wife."

Max mouthed the word, "wife" in return, glowing effusely at the term, before they made their way to the closet.

As they started to needfully attack each other in the cramped darkness, Chloe couldn't help but think to herself...

 _...okay life. Is this it? Is this the point where you finally come and say 'Hey Chloe. You had six good years o after that storm, but it's time now to pay up. Time for you to die. Well...it's okay. I'm ready. I am so happy, I_ could _literally die. If this is the end of the line for some reason...I couldn't have asked for a better send off than this._

To her delight, Chloe survived to continue partying on through the rest of the night and into the morning, although the hangover she suffered later made her briefly wish otherwise.

* * *

 _ **A/N:**_ Whew...well that was a slog to drag out. I always have a lot more trouble getting motivated to write once the late fall/early winter kicks in. And this was an important chapter...a little too important. Like...if I don't draw a line and force myself to publish, I will just continue to polish and tweak and freak out over it. So to paraphrase a certain villain, sometimes you just have to take the shot and deal with it. The time jumps are going to start coming a little more fast and furious from this point onward. If I had to guess, I think it's only about 4 or 5 chapters left til the end, but I also tend to underestimate the time I need, too.

I knew, from the moment I saw that video of Ashley Burch singing Black Sheep that I was somehow, somewhere, going to have a scene where Chloe was singing it at karaoke. :-)

I also now want a picture of Max wearing a t-shirt that says "Uke in the streets, Seme in the sheets."

So this is probably the last Grande Dame instalment for the rest of the year. I've got some catchup to do for Black Swan (along with a special surprise for when that publishes next!), and a holiday order to fulfil, as it were. I hope you all have a wonderful ChristmaHannuKwanzika!


	12. Chapter 12

**April 2032**

"I do apologize Chloe...you know I'd love to spare you all this shit right now, and I'm playing interference as much as I can, but the situation between Robert and Vik is getting heated; you know men, when they feel like they have to assert their dominance."

Chloe sighed ponderously, as she listened to Maggie's voice through the tiny Bluetooth earpiece. Her cab felt like an island of tranquility, and for the third time, she muttered a grateful prayer for having spent the extra few dollars to hire an autonomous cab to take her from Sea-Tac to the University of Washington Medical Center.

"Jesus fuck," she grumbled. "So this is still about the zoning and tax abatement issues? I thought we settled that last quarter?"

"Yeah, funny thing. Everyone else on the Council assumed the same. I don't know who antagonized whom, but all of the sudden, neither of them are happy."

Chloe leaned forward, elbows on her knees, face in her hands as she went over the events in her mind. A few years back, Steven Exeter's son Robert managed to gain a position for himself on the Council; sadly, he demonstrated all of his father's faults, and none of what few charms the elder possessed. Around the same time, Glenda O'Meara stepped down from the day to day grind of running AkashaDyne, promoting her hand-picked successor Vikram Patel in her place; the kid was good, clearly had a head for the business side, but he also possessed chip on his shoulder the size of Oregon itself; he never passed up an opportunity to take offense at petty shit.

Hissing out softly, Chloe sighed, "You know, I can't believe we've gone this long without addressing the issue of Arcadia Bay not having a deputy mayor position."

"We've never really needed it before; we've only recently hit the population requirement to bring us up from being designated a city instead of a town."

"Great, Mags. Then I hereby deputize you. So fix this shit for me, because I really can't go dealing with it right now." Chloe spat out, harsher than she intended.

Fortunately, Maggie knew her boss' temperament all too well, speaking in quiet and calm tones, "You know it doesn't work that way. I realize this is a very rough time for you right now, but the sad truth of the matter is that you're the most moderating influence in this situation. Vik respects you because Glenda respected you, and Robert knows you won't put up with his shit any more than you did for his daddy."

 _Fuck. Fuckfuckfuck. This isn't fair. This isn't right, that I've been kept away from being with Max for so long. Right when she needs me the most._

Slumping back in her seat, Chloe pulled out the vape pen she'd smuggled with her on the flight, and took a long draw; it wasn't a habit she indulged in as frequently as her days of youth, but for the moment, she definitely need a little something to take the edge off.

"Moderating influence. Yeah. I suppose so. Can't help but imagine Chris, retired out in Colorado, laughing his ass off at the idea. But times change, don't they?" She blew the milky vapor out through her nose, and took another long drag, considering. "Okay, set up a video conference for tomorrow morning, 7:00 AM. That'll be easy enough."

"Wow. That early in the morning, huh? They're not going to like that."

"I damn well hope they don't. That's the price for pissing off the Mayor and dragging her into this shit when she should be supporting her wife twenty-four-seven for the last month. They got off easy. They can take it, or they can wait until I get back from Seattle." Chloe said.

"All right. I'll make sure they understand how important it is to accept the meeting time. Assume that it'll go as planned unless you get a text from me." Maggie replied.

"Yeah. Great. Thanks, Mags."

"...hang in there, okay? Please give Max my love and support. Believe me, I understand exactly what she's going through right now."

Chloe caught herself nodding, alone in the cab, and then said, "Appreciate it. I know she does too. Talk to you tomorrow."

Pressing a button on her smartwatch to end the call, she pulled out a small compact and started to freshen up her lipstick. As forty drew ever closer, she'd fallen prey to perhaps a small touch of vanity; already, she caught a few errant grey hairs peeking through, whenever she was overlong in re-dying her roots, having never returned to her original blonde hair color. But she was in pretty good shape; better than that, she was still as buff as she'd become in her late teens and early twenties thanks to all the manual labor. On top of that, she ate much better than she used to, exercised a lot more. A couple of wrinkles here and there only seemed to add character. At least, that's what she liked to tell herself.

" _God, I sure don't remember growing older."_

Eventually, the cab brought her to the UWMC. She stepped out, taped her watchface against the payment scanner, and walked away; she'd already sent her bags ahead to the hotel, straight from the airport.

It was a cold, miserable day; steel grey, the cloud cover like a dense, obdurate thing that would never part again, with a constant rain that seemed to seep into the bones. She quickly made her way through the front entrance, heels clacking sharply against the pavement, and then the linoleum once she was inside.

Alone in the elevator, headed towards the the oncology wing, and psyched herself up.

 _You are her rock, Chole. You are her anchor. Everything you're going through right now gets shoved to the side. There is no you, there is only Max. You do whatever you have to for her, hug her as long as she needs it, listen to her until your ears bleed._

She stepped out into the hallway, walking towards room 1865; slowing to a stop as she spotted Max stepping out of the room and closing the door behind her. Chloe smiled at first, trying to appear reassuring, and also genuinely happy to see her. But as soon as she got a look at the expression of heartbroken grief etched into her wife's face, she knew the worst had come to pass.

Vanessa Caulfield finally lost her long battle.

Max's mother developed an aggressive form of breast cancer, and over the past three years the family endured a roller coaster of various treatments. Initial triumphs and false hopes, moments where it seemed that perhaps the worst was over, only to have the brief windows of celebration turn to bitter ash. Despite the advanced therapies and medication that were now available in the third decade of the twenty-first century, there were still no guarantees that any cancer diagnosis could be beaten; just better chances than a few years before.

Max immediately fell into her arms, buried her face against her shoulder, and began to wrenchingly sob. Chloe held her wife's entire weight up as best as she could, stroking her hair and back, and clinging to her. She closed her eyes and tried to banish the anger and regret welling up inside her.

 _Should have been here. Should have been here from the start. How the hell can she forgive me, for not being here in her mom's last hours?_

"S-sorry..." she warbled lamely, squeezing Max tighter against her. "Should have been here sooner. Fucking work..."

She bowed her head, and Max tried her best to speak through her tears and grief.

"You're here now. Right when I need you...th-thank you. It...she...it was q-quick and she didn't feel any p...pa..."

Max broke down completely, and Chloe all but carried her single handedly to one of the couches in a small alcove, holding her there for the better part of an hour, letting the other woman finally let go of all the emotional trauma and agony that had been building up inside her over the last few weeks.

Chloe knew there's be a vast multitude of details to take care of; it wasn't fair to either Max or Ryan to be bothered with the arrangements: the funeral, the estate. Who would cook meals, deal with people wanting to come and pay their respects over the days to come.

She could do that much; after fourteen years of successfully running Arcadia Bay, she knew how to get shit done, either personally, or how to find someone appropriate to delegate the responsibility to.

"Gonna take care of you, baby. Promise. You just...you let it out. She loved you and..."

She stopped, not sure what more could be said. Or should be.

It was moments like this, however, that made Chloe want to give up entirely on the whole notion of adulthood. Life had been so much easier when she and Max were nothing more than carefree teens playing at junior detective, or hero rebuilders of the devastated Bay. Everything that seemed so important, so much larger than life now paled grimly in comparison to the terrible realities that greeted them with increasing frequency as their life together continued ever onward.

* * *

Chloe toweled the sheen of perspiration off her neck and forehead as she concluded her hour long workout on the elliptical runner. She pressed the stop button on her smartwatch, killing the streaming music feed; while she'd never been much of a Taylor Swift fan in her youth, she found herself enjoying it during these sessions, in that it was catchy and easy to tune out.

 _That and...I don't know what the hell these kids are listening to today, but it sure as hell isn't decent music._

Grabbing a bottle of water from the mini fridge in the home gym, she chugged it down, and tossed it away into the recycling bin. From there, she'd head to the bathroom and take a shower...

...same as she'd done for years now. It'd become a ritual as predictable as Old Faithful, as certain as the seasons changing.

Even if she couldn't remember the last time she actually saw it snow in the Pacific Northwest.

Thus, it was with no small amount of surprise when she found herself suddenly face to face with Max, almost knocking her back.

"Oh! God...sorry! Are you alright?"

"F-fine." Max stammered, clearly bristling with nervous energy. The two of them fell briefly silent, as Chloe appraised her wife of nearly fifteen years. The wild hipster punk of the early twenties gave way to the more professional-minded free-spirit that was Max Caulfield at age thirty-six. Her hair was longer now, almost halfway down her back. No longer a vibrant red, it'd been years since she stopped dying it, and allowed it to return to its original light-brown coloring. She was a little plumper these days, but Chloe always thought it made her look all the more adorable. Sure, her eye might wander now and then, admiring some of the younger women that walked the streets of Arcadia Bay, but she'd always stayed true to her love.

That said, the days of spontaneity and passion long fell back by the wayside. As the years wore on, Chloe came to the realization that one of the glaring flaws of youth is that it rarely considers what actually happens after the end of the fairytale romance, past the words, the assumptions held in the phrase "And They Lived Happily Ever After." All the trials and tribulations that life insistently continues to throw out.

 _And bills need paying, and work needs to be done, and careers developed..._

When intimate moments of lovemaking became less frequent, fewer, and far more distant between.

Chloe wouldn't say that they were unhappily married; she still loved Max,that could never, ever be in doubt. But were they 'in love' anymore? The way they were in that first wild and crazy decade?

 _Is anyone really 'in love' like that after a while? Or is it just a lie people tell themselves, an unrealistic measure. God knows, our relationship's gone through a lot, taken a lot of work to maintain. Why should that be so unusual?_

"Can we talk for a minute?" Max asked, still fidgeting. Chloe simply nodded her ascent. Though they'd been married long enough for that phrase to invoke a sort of nauseating dread the few times it came up, she wasn't initially so ill at ease; Vanessa's funeral was barely two or three weeks past, so it made sense that Max was going through a lot, and would have things she'd want to talk about.

Max made a few false starts, stammering and going off on tangents. "Been thinking a lot...about life...how much time we really have left...we're not getting any younger..."

Finally, she came right out and said it:

"Chloe, I want to have a baby."

That wasn't what she was expecting, not at all. It wasn't that Chloe was opposed to the notion, but unlike most other women, she seemed curiously bereft of a so-called 'biological clock', and assumed over the years that Max was of a like mind.

"Ah...uh. Wow. Okay, this is really sudden." She started to rub the back of her head nervously, then wrapped the towel around her neck, and over her shoulder. "I figured we settled this issue a while back. I mean, it's not like we really talked about it, but..."

Max rubbed her arms nervously, and said in a soft, but insistent voice. "No. We never did. Not really. We always just assumed...with our careers keeping us busy. But I mean...I always did want to, you know?!" Her voice rose, and Chloe stepped back, a bit startled at the tone of anger bursting forth. "I figured it was just a matter of time, that sooner or later we'd get it together, but we never did. I was waiting for you, and maybe that was stupid of me but...and now my Mom is dead, Chloe! And she never...never got a chance to..." She bit down on her bottom lip, hard. "We're almost forty. We've waited a really long time already."

Chloe swallowed; this was coming so fast for her. Clearly it was something Max had been keeping deep inside, until it finally burbled up like an exploding geyser.

Chloe reached out, trying to rest her hands on Max's arms. "Hon...I...okay, I'm a bit surprised, but maybe we should wait a bit longer to have this talk? You're really on edge right now, and I understand why. You're barely started on the grieving, but I think making a snap, crazy decision..."

"This isn't a crazy thing, damnit!" Max bit back, and not, in Chloe's estimation, doing her argument much good. "I waited too long to bring it up, wasted too much time." She closed her eyes. "I want to talk about it now! I don't want 'later' to be an excuse to wait until it's too late!"

Chloe gently squeezed Max's arms, blinking when she abruptly stepped away from her grasp. "Okay, look, you just can't come up and throw something like that at me, it's not fair. I mean, you're talking about upending our lives. You have your career and me...I mean Jesus, I'm still the mayor, sweetie. So I can't just go and make snap decisions without taking into account how it's going to affect my job, and the people who depend on me to do it."

With a dark light of resentment touching her eyes, Max hissed, "I knew you were going to say something like that! I knew you were going to use that as an excuse..."

"What excuse!? I didn't say no, I just said we need to calm down and think things through! You can't just drop this on me out of the blue and expect me to say 'Oh yeah! Let's do it! Let's jump blindly in.'" Chloe replied, her heart starting to beat hard from the sudden antagonism thrown into her face.

"I...you would have...back when we were first married, you would have done it. You would have understood how important this is to me!" Max countered, tears welling up in her eyes.

"Well that was a long, long time ago, Max! We aren't the crazy kids we used to be." Chloe huffed back, crossing her arms defensively, before adding, "And besides, jumping blindly in simply to make you happy is how I ended up mayor of this damn city in the first place..."

Chloe regretted the words as soon as they left her mouth.

She felt herself melt back under the heat of the burning glare that Max gave her, before her wife turned on heel and fled out of the hallway.

It didn't have to be said, but the situation at present was obvious: Chloe would be spending the night in the guest room.

Later, she lay spread out on the guest bed, staring hard into the ceiling and reminiscing over how they'd gotten to this point in their marriage. She did her best to keep anger from overwhelming her, although God knows she was sure the fuck feeling it: ambushed, resentful and unappreciated.

Still...

 _...this seems so crazy, so out of character for her. Was it really something this important, for so long, that she just pushed it down? Was she doing it for my sake? Out of the sense like she'd molded my life in so many ways, limited what I could and couldn't do, and now she was asking to do it one more time? Oh God, Max, all you had to do was talk to me about it before. I would have listened, I promise. Maybe...damnit, I don't know how I feel right now about having a kid. Like I said, now's not the time to talk about it. We shouldn't have a kid, just because you're guilty about not having one before your Mom died._

And yet, as Chloe turned to the side, she had to wonder...

 _Are the cracks finally starting to show? Is this the point where the marriage ends one day? Not like...now, or tomorrow, but in a few years? A slow, painful, downward spiral?_

"Okay, shut up, damnit. None of this shit, Chloe. You and Max...this is...seriously, she and I are forever. This is just a damn bump in the road."

But she had to admit that there was some vital spark, some magic, for want of a better word, was missing, Or maybe just long dormant? Theirs had been a relationship for the ages, literally founded on Max, her best friend forever, saving her life, and then kicking Time's ass, over and over again, until it finally relented, but not before saying, "I'll just take out the entire town as payment."

Almost twenty years later though, it all seemed like nothing more than a crazy dream. A fantastic tale that happened to someone else; she'd never seen a glimmer, not a single hint, that there was more to life than the purely mundane, after that one week in October. It was as if for one brief, enchanted moment, everything she thought about how the universe worked was completely suspended. And for those first few years, she was grateful for the comforting weight of mundanity.

But now there was a calcification; a placidity that becalmed their marriage.

 _I mean it's not like we fight all the time, not really. We're just...day in and day out. It never changes. And that all came across so slowly, we didn't notice until it was too late._

Chloe tossed and turned through the first half of the night, before finally declaring defeat and taking a sleeping pill.

* * *

She was slightly groggy the next morning, but not nearly as bad as she'd be if she hadn't slept a wink. Chloe snuck a quick bowl of cereal from the kitchen, and was prepared to head to the municipal building when Max stepped out, wrapped up in a white terrycloth bathrobe. Her eyes were still puffy and wet, clearly having spent the whole night crying.

Chloe froze, like a deer caught in headlights. She had absolutely no idea what sort of mood Max would be in, but quickly found herself being hugged.

"S-sorry. I'm...so sorry, Chloe. Oh God, I have no idea what got into me." Max sniffled back hard, reaching up to wipe at her eyes. She then looked up, trembling. "You were right. I was being unfair because...oh God, Chloe. Because in the end, right before she died, she told me she always wished we'd had kids. My Mom. I mean, I don't think she meant it to guilt me, but..." Swallowing hard, she bowed her head, and seemed to shrink a good six inches.

"It was unfair of me, jumping on you like that. Pushing you and...kids. Wowser. I mean, we're...it's better this way, isn't it? We're a bit over the hill to be having one."

Now that, for some reason Chloe couldn't quite put her finger on, struck a deeply sad chord in her heart.

Chloe leaned in, kissing Max's face and hair, and murmured low. "Huh. Can't remember the last time you said 'wowser'." This elicited a shy, slight smile from her wife. "And no. You really don't have anything to apologize for, okay? You've been through so much, I mean shit...you lost your Mom, when she should have had a lot of good years ahead of her. You're allowed to freak out. A lot. So..." She breathed in hard through her nose, and then tried her best to put on a reassuring smile. "This weekend, let's get away, alright? Just you and me. We'll go to Portland, fancy hotel room. Dinner, dancing. Just live a little. That sound good?"

Max nodded quickly, her head still bowed. Leaned in and crushed her tight in another hug. They shared a kiss, before Chloe took off for the rest of her day. While obviously happy that they'd managed to resolve the worst of the issue in short order, there was still a lingering sense of deep melancholy that she couldn't shake.

* * *

The fact that the day was turning out to be slow was doing nothing for Chloe's mood; she'd desperately, semi-jokingly hoped that maybe Vik and Robert would find a new reason to butt heads, forcing her to bring the Chloe-brand of mayor-flavored smackdown on both of them, but wasn't so lucky. By 10:30, she was randomly staring at her terminal screen, left hand endlessly squeezing one of her favorite fidget toys.

She didn't even hear Maggie walk in, and place an e-slate in front of her. Thin as a pane of glass and almost as clear, little more than a touch-sensitive OLED display, they were quickly replacing paper documents these days, at least in situations where contracts and other legally binding documents needed to be signed and sent off.

Chloe picked up it and squinted slightly at it, doing her best to completely ignore the fact that her eyesight just wasn't as sharp as it used to be.

"So what's this, Mags?" she inquired.

"Wellllll, it's that magical time of your term: re-election. Just the standard form you need to thumbprint, to legally indicate your intention to run." Maggie snorted, and tilted her eyes upward. "Seriously, it's just a formality. No one ran against you last time, and I highly doubt it'll be a contested race this year, either."

Chloe stared through the slate in her hand rather than at it, and spoke, in a faraway voice, "Dunno. Robert Exeter is always saying how it'd be different if he were in charge..."

"Oh please!" Maggie retorted. "He knows damn well that you _are_ Arcadia Bay. Everyone loves you, and you've had this city humming like a well-oiled machine for a while now. You'd crush him in the election, and I don't think his puny ego could handle the rejection."

A cold, clammy hand, almost like something skeletal, squeezed hard at Chloe's heart, pulling it down into her stomach as the words reverberated echoingly in her mind.

" _you_ are _Arcadia Bay_... _well-oiled machine..."_

Chloe didn't respond to Maggie, her thoughts were so tangled up, trying to piece through what it was she was experiencing.

 _The machine. This city's a machine. And I'm just a cog...no...shit. Oh shit...I_ AM _the machine. I'm the Man. I'm..._

Somewhere, through the yawning chasm of years, she could feel her nineteen-year old self kicking her ass, screaming with frustration. Pointing an accusing finger.

" _I used to fight the system! The way it screwed me over, and people just like me, people I cared about..."_

 _But I'm a good Mayor...a damn good one at that, fuck you very much!_

" _Yeah, and now you've got yourself a comfy, unchallenged little perch, right at the top. And don't act like you didn't sell out, in little ways here and there, to get here. And stay here."_

 _That's called being a responsible adult and a good negotiator. You don't always get every little thing you want when you have a shit-ton of responsibility, little girl. Hell, Chris taught us that much, if nothing else._

" _Oh please. Like you're so hella above the wheeling and dealing. Whatever happened to Angry Chloe? Passionate Chloe?!"_

 _Damnit! Some of us grew up,_ that's _what happened to angry. Some of us grew up, you fucking child..._

 _Angry...passionate..._

 _...child._

 _Oh God...all my passion. All my...why am I still doing this? What good am I doing here? For anyone? I have so much more to give than this. I'm wasting so much time..._

"Chloe? Chloe? Madame Mayor? Seriously, can you answer me, because you're starting to freak me out a little..."

Snapping up hard with a gasp, as if emerging from a tank of cold water, Chloe came to her senses.

Her thoughts were racing a split second ahead of her mind, but it was becoming quickly apparent what she needed to do, where she needed to go from here. She tossed the slate unceremoniously onto her desk, pushed back and then rose to her feet. Walking over to the window, she hugged herself, staring out into the city streets below.

Taking a deep breath, she sighed out, "Call a presser for me, Mags. Doesn't have to be huge, the local stations, and maybe one of the papers from Corvallis. Try to make it for three o'clock if you could? And um..cancel my meetings for the rest of the day." She started to turn for the door.

"You don't have any meetings today." Maggie said.

"Great, that makes it so much easier. If something comes up, you know how to get a hold of me."

"Wait...wait! What the...Chloe? What's going on?" Maggie glanced down at the desk. "I'm gonna go out on a limb and assume this has something to do with the paperwork sitting on your desk, still very much unsigned?"

With a smirk, Chloe turned the doorknob, and said, "You'll find out at three, same as everyone else. I'll let you guess in the meantime." She then strode out, closing the door behind her. As she made her way out of the municipal building, she was possessed of the curious sensation, as if a dry, gritty shell was peeling away from her skin, step by step, breath by breath. By the time she'd made it to the first floor, she was feeling lighter, freer than she could remember in a such a long while.

First, she sent a text to Victoria...

 _ **Tori...lunch? My treat...want to ask you some questions about that place you used last year.**_

While waiting for a response, she tapped a button on her smartwatch, placing a call to Max.

"Chloe? Hi. What's up?"

"Sorry...I probably caught you between classes?"

"It's okay." Max replied. "I have a minute. Whats up?"

Chloe swallowed hard, and said, "I just...wanted to tell you. I love you and...three PM. Browse over to the local streaming feed from the community media site, okay? And then I'm gonna come home, and we have some things to talk about. Alright?"

She could feel the nervous frisson that rose up in Max's heart, bleeding out into her voice.

"...Chloe. What's happening? Is everything alright? Please...talk to me?"

"Everything is fine. Better than it's been for a long time, I think. Please believe me, it's gonna be okay. You'll see. When I get home, we'll talk."

"Alright. I...I love you."

"Love you too, babe."

* * *

"...and so I hereby announce my intention to finish out the rest of my term, and then step aside. I will not be seeking re-election."

Chloe leaned against the podium in the lobby of the municipal building, addressing the small handful of reporters who were summoned to cover the event. An audible gasp and a murmur arose; clearly they were expecting some exceptionally mundane and uninteresting bit of fluff: perhaps some sort of self-congratulatory announcement about declaring such-and-such a date to be So-and-So Day.

That the first mayor of the town, now city, of Arcadia Bay was leaving the position she herself fought to create was the last thing they wagered on.

"It's been a good run. For nearly half my life, I've had the honor and the privilege of serving the citizens of the Bay. We've all worked so hard, pulling ourselves up from the brink of total destruction, to become one of the fasting growing, most desirable communities in the entire state."

She brushed aside her blue bangs against the rest of her black hair, and continued, "I've always kinda joked that I was only here until it was time to take off the training wheels. And it occurs to me that day came a long while back. Now? Gotta bring in new blood. New ideas. Shake things up. And I...I'd really like to focus on some things that are really important to me. Now, if you'll excuse me, this concludes my statement. Thank you very much."

As she started to head off, one of the local reporters gathered their wits enough to call out a question: "Madame Mayor! In the wake of your departure, will you be officially endorsing a replacement?"

Chloe couldn't roll her eyes hard enough at this. She was trying to step away from her legacy, give Arcadia Bay a chance to plot out it's own course, instead of always looking to her as some sort of static, dependable anchor. Planting her fists against her hips, she said, "Oh hell no. Seriously guys, let's just throw the doors open now. Although..." she smirked over towards her personal aide.

"Hell Maggie, you gonna run? God knows you know the job just as well as I do at this point." She couldn't help but chuckle internally, pleased with the shocked reaction she got out of the older woman. "Or at the very least, whoever wins could do a lot worse than continuing to retain Ms. Dresden's services as a personal assistant. Anyhow, see you kids later."

Chloe strode off, smirking smugly to herself, as poor Maggie was left to fend off the intense interest bearing down on her from the tiny throng of reporters.

* * *

Chloe walked in through the front door, not sure what to expect from Max when she arrived.

Anger? Joy? Sadness?

She wondered if she was in for all three when she saw her smiling angrily through her tears.

"S-so what...Chloe, what the hell was all that about?"

Stopping short, and scratching at the back of her neck, Chloe remarked, "Hi babe. Have a good day at work?"

"No jokes, Che! You...I mean...you just quit!"

"Well no, quitting implies I'm leaving right now. I'm still mayor until January. Only difference is that I'm not re-upping for another tour of duty." Chloe said with an impish smile.

 _And you called me Che. You haven't done that in forever._

Max stepped close, "Is this because of our fight? About what you said, about what happened with..."

Chloe couldn't reach out fast enough, to grab Max's hands and reassure her.

"No! No no no, oh God. Max! Baby, no...please don't...this isn't...gah!" She paused, rolled back, trying to gather up her thoughts, and speak again.

"Okay, maybe, in some teeny, tiny way? But only in the sense that..."

She paused. Bowed her head. Gently squeezed both of Max's hands in her, and looked up. With steely resolve in her eyes, she continued, "We've made amends, Max. With Arcadia Bay. We're square. At long last. Maybe that's a bitchy thing to say, maybe it sounds like I'm cheapening all the people who died, all the shit that went down, everything that...that we've _both_ felt responsible for. But we've spent almost half our lives - HALF! making things right with this city. We've given so much of ourselves and - and no one can say that we didn't make this place way, way better than when we found it. No one..."

Max breathed out, in a tiny voice. "That was all you, Chloe. I didn't..."

"Damnit, Max! You did! You gave as much as I did. Maybe more. I mean, am I wrong? Do you not see how we're seriously at this weird point in our relationship where...I just feel like we've let ourselves become trapped! I mean, I liked being mayor, and I know you love teaching those kids as much as taking photography commissions and assignments, but something has to give. We can't let our roles, our service, fuck, our feeling that we owe something to Arcadia Bay define us anymore. Especially not when..."

She reached into her blazer, pulling out an e-slate, almost exactly like the one she tossed away this morning, and thrust it out.

Max took it, staring down at it quizzically, then back up to her.

"It's an interactive brochure for a fertility clinic. It's in Canada...Vancover. The place that Victoria used a couple years ago, when she decided she was going to do the whole single mother routine? I already made an appointment, for a month from now. I meant it when I said I didn't want to rush headlong into this. If we're going to have a child, we should do it for all the right reasons. But...but damnit! The more I think about it, the more I think that yeah...yeah I have a lot to offer a kid. And you'd be a fantastic mom. And...and..."

The tears started to fall down her face, as she pulled Max close to her. "It's not too late, Max. It's never too late. Especially not now. Look, this clinic is supposed to be amazing. Top of the line. And they've got this technique. I don't exactly understand how it works, but the South Koreans perfected it ten years ago, and now same-sex couples can have kids that are genetically related to both parents. The FDA are still being puritanical pussy fucks about it, and got it bottled up in stage three testing, but the Canadians have been doing it for over five years, and it works and...and we could have an amazing daughter! Yours...you and me, mine. Ours."

Max stood there, just looking at her, as she gazed back. It was nearly ten full seconds before she breathed out. "Or...or a son..."

Chloe shook her head. "No. Just a daughter. If we do it this way, with two women? Only produces girls. I mean, if you're - you know - okay with that?"

"But... Wait, Chloe. This is crazy fast. What are we going to do...who'll stay home with the baby? And what'll we do to make ends meet if you're out of a job...?"

Chloe laughed softly, a giddy feeling overtaking her, trying not to dwell on the fact that in short order, their places had switched from yesterday evening, "I will! Or you will! Or whatever you want to do! If you wanna put your career on hold and be a stay-at-home Mom, I'll find a new job...I mean shit, I'm the motherfucking Mayor of motherfucking Arcadia Bay. I could easily turn my experience into a consulting gig. Maybe even stay at home stuff, so...so it'd be me and you taking care of the baby for a while. Eventually, you could even go back to work, and I'd be a stay at home...uh...other mom? Look, I have absolute faith that we can do this. We have a nest egg that can float us for a little while, and the job market is good...we can do this...totally. I promise. Oh God, I'm babbling now...help? I can't stop..."

Max moved slowly, not so much falling as clinging to her in slow motion, nesting the side of her head against Chloe's chest. Let out a few sobs of relief, and nodded.

"I'd like that Ch-che. Like it a lot. Let's really talk. It's okay, if we decide in the end it'd be better if we didn't go down this road but..."

"B-but, for right now. I mean, it feels right, doesn't it? In a weird way? Like this is the next step?" Chloe said, with an almost pleading note in her voice.

Max nodded once, before pulling her face down, kissing her; she was gentle at first, but quickly morphed it into needy, almost desperate greed. Cupping her cheeks in her hands, tongue pressing past her lips.

In a heartbeat, Chloe was all of nineteen again, responding passionately, already reaching over to work on undressing the both of them. Everything she wanted, everything she needed was in her arms. Maxine Caulfield, Maxine Price-Caulfield, the love of her life. Her best friend, her savior. Her inspiration, her rock.

Maybe, just maybe, the mother of her future child.

* * *

 **July 22nd, 2033**

Chloe paced desperately, back and forth, like a caged lioness. For the most part, the past nine months of Max's pregnancy went well. It took several months of consultation, testing, planning, DNA recombining and all sorts of breathtakingly scientific and stomach-turningly expensive treatments, but Max was pregnant on the first try. She'd managed to avoid all of the boogiemen that plagued later-in-life pregnancies not so long ago: gestational diabetes, preeclampsia, chromosomal defects, Down Syndrome.

 _Those Canadian doctors know what the hell they're doing, that's for damn sure!_

But complications arose during the delivery. There was talk about having use a Cesarian section, and that was about the time that Max got weird. Something about not wanting Chloe to see her in a moment of extreme pain and weakness and...

 _God damnit, Max! You can be so infuriating sometimes! Why would I love you any less, just because you're cursing like a fucking sailor at me. You could rip my arm off, if that's what it took to get you through this. Why do you think you need to take this on by yourself?_

At least Ryan was with her. And maybe that was the real reason. That perhaps this was a moment just for father and daughter. Something unique, special, once in a lifetime. Chloe could definitely forgive that.

 _Max's pregnancy has meant so much to him. Hell, he single-handedly paid for everything we needed to convert the guest room into a nursery._

On top of that, Max's father made up his mind to retire from his architecture firm, sell his condo, and then settle down into semi-retirement in Arcadia Bay.

 _Geezus, between him, and the way my parents have been over the moon, this is gonna be one spoiled kid._

Before she could brood-freak-pace any further, a nurse came in to the waiting room, smiling softly in her direction.

"Ma'am? I believe there's someone who'd like to meet you."

"Oh my God, move move move!" In a flash, Chloe took off, rushing ahead of the nurse, her high-heels clacking loudly, as she trotted in, flustered, but eventually letting the nurse gently take her by the arm and aim her in the right direction.

Her heart pounded hard in her chest, as she was struck with the sudden notion that her life was about to end; not literally, but that once she crossed the threshold into Max's room, and saw their baby girl, she was going to stop being Chloe Price-Caulfield, former teenage dirtbag, former political hero, former survivor of life's many cruel and strange attempts to end her life. And become someone new entirely.

She'd been fortunate enough to be granted a second act in her life, something that never failed to amaze her. But that was nothing compared to the third act that was merely three seconds away from kicking off.

And as before, like that night of the storm, she felt the old Chloe die...

...and the new one burst forth onto the world.

There was a definite blank spot in her mind, her perceptions, as she felt the pieces shift in her brain. Before she was able to look forward, and register the sight before her.

Max was glowing, absolutely radiant, cradling a tiny bundle in her arms, and smiling with intense satisfaction. Ryan rose up, leaned in to kiss both mother and daughter on the forehead, and then walked out, wiping the tears his eyes. He clapped Chloe affectionately on the shoulder at first, but then turned to crush her in a bear hug.

"I'll leave you two to get acquainted." he said with a wet chuckle, before departing.

Chloe stumbled forward, catching herself at the edge of Max's hospital bed, before grinning sheepishly down at her wife, who then held the infant up for her.

"Heyyy. Look'it what I made! Say hi to our daughter, Backup Mommy." Max said with a giggle. Chloe glanced up, noticed the morphine drip, and snorted. "Good stuff, huh?"

Max gave a double thumbs up and nodded. "Mmmmhmmm! Just for a little bit. We didn't have to cut me up in the end but...but...yeah, we're done. The Max Baby Bakery is closed. You carry the next one."

Chloe laughed and then looked down at her baby girl. Her indescribably perfect, absolutely awesome, unnaturally beautiful.

 _Ha ha! Look at that! She has Max's nose. And her face. But...but yeah, those are my eyes. And my head shape and...ha-holy shit! Those Canadian scientist guys did it. It worked. I can't believe they took my DNA and knocked up Max with it, and now we have a girl all our own..._

"H-hella awesome. And...one of a kind and...think I might be happy with the one." Chloe breathed out. She breathed in that new baby scent, and suddenly understand what the big freaking deal was about.

Max giggled. "Haven't said hella since before you were thirty, baby."

"Haven't felt this young, doll." Chloe then shifted the baby over, from one arm to the next, giggling as she gave a teeny, tiny little yawn.

"So...this is Vanessa, huh?"

Max tilted her head, "About that, hon?"

Chloe looked up. "Well look, we agreed, it would be a great tribute to your Mom, but we still haven't figured out a middle name..."

"Yeah, we have." Max murmured with increasing drowsiness. "It's Vanessa."

"Ah...I...don't understand. You changed your mind? So what are we going with?"

"Mmmmm. I looked at the clock calendar a few minutes ago, and realized something. You know what day it is today?" Max asked.

"Uh yeah, duh. It's the 22nd of July. How the hell am I ever going to forget that day now?" Chloe asked, eyes alight with glee.

"You...you know...you maybe forget someone else born that day?"

"What? Who? I'm not sure who you're talking abo - oh shit."

It struck her like a physical blow. How the hell could she have not seen it earlier?

"Mmmmm, s'a dollar for the swear jar, babe." Max murmured.

"So...so seriously? You named her...?"

"Yup. Introducing Rachel Vanessa Price-Caulfield. I'm not big for religious stuff but I thought...you know...wouldn't it be kinda funny if this was her chance. Her next incarnation. Coming back to say hi."

Chloe just stared, disbelieving at her dau - at Rachel. She didn't go in for any of the mumbo-jumbo that Max was suggesting...

...but she leaned in, kissing her so hard. Almost broke into tears, right then and there.

"Thank you. Oh God. Thank you, thank you, thank you." Chloe repeated fervently.

Max squirmed and tenderly pushed her aside. "Welcome. Sleepy. Gonna nap so...go. Hang out. Don't let Dad hog her. Come back in an hour, kay?"

Chloe drifted out, nodding dazedly, as she walked out of the room.

Or tried to, at any rate.

Suddenly, everything felt far too dangerous. Her three inch heels, never a problem for her in the years she'd taken to wearing them, felt irresponsibly high, way too unstable. She simply couldn't stand to walk, and carefully, oh so carefully, removed them, walking down the hall in her stocking feet.

Carefully collapsing in a tiny alcove, she covered Rachel's forehead and cheeks in kisses, and cooed to her, under her breath.

"I don't know if that's really you in there, Rache. I mean, that'd be nice, you know? If life really worked out that way. I mean, hell, maybe it does; Max warped time to bring me back again and again, so maybe this was her way of bringing you back to us, too. Her last bit of crazy magic." She thought to hug her daughter a little tighter, but found that she was so scared, so desperately afraid of hurting her, that all she could do was cradle her protectively.

"Doesn't matter. Whoever you are, Rachel Vanessa? First and foremost, you're my daughter. I will love you no matter what. And uh...I'll try...I promise I'll try, not to be a total bitch and make you hate me when you're a teenager, even though it would be totally fair play and karma and everything, if that happened. And...and...thank you. You know? For this new life, we're all about to have. Thank you for everything we're about to see and do together, for the rest of our lives."

She swallowed hard, eyes filling with tears as she sat there, alone in her own little world.

Just her and Rachel.

* * *

 **A/N:** Whew! Hi there folks. Happy Boxing Day. And look! I got you all a baby :-D

Anyhow, I hope everyone enjoyed the holiday yesterday. Maybe you got some nice swag, maybe you just had some good food and company. I hope everyone got at least something nice out of it, no matter what it was, how big or small. This year, I have been particularly appreciative of all the wonderful friends I've made in the past few months; they know who they are, because they are all awesome.

And so are you, readers :-)

Anyhow, it's been a long time since I wrote almost an entire chapter in one sitting. It didn't come out quite as well as I wanted, but it never does. Still, I'm looking forward to the next one. I figure after this chapter, there are about three or four left. Like I said, the time jumps are coming a little hot and heavy now.

Have a great new year!


	13. Chapter 13

A few hours later, Joyce and David both strode into the hospital room where Max, Chloe and Rachel would be spending the next couple of nights. Joyce was now walking on her own, thanks to a lightweight mechanical exoskeleton that read the neural impulses from above the damaged section of her spine and translated them into movements by the robotic frame. Though the technology had been available for years, her insurance refused to cover it until last year. Once she'd gotten trained with it, she was constantly making joking references about going back to work at the diner.

After the appropriate hugs and kisses were exchanged, Joyce got straight to the point: "So, let me see my grandbaby." Chloe slowly, gingerly held out her arms, going pale as Joyce picked Rachel up, confidently supporting the tiny child's head and back. Her mother couldn't help but laugh.

"Oh Chloe, I was the exact same way when you were born; absolutely convinced I was gonna break you. That lasted about a week. Once you've got the knack for holding an infant, you never lose it." Joyce then started to coo and nuzzle at her granddaughter, "Who's my pretty girl? Who's that? It's you! Yes it is!" Rachel blinked her eyes and gave yet another yawn, before staring intently ahead.

Chloe gently clapped her stepfather on the back, smirking affectionately, "Look like you're about to make with the waterworks, Big D." David jokingly glared at her, before shaking his head, smiling almost painfully wide, "Just - just never thought I'd ever get a chance to be a grandfather. Really means the world to me, as well as your mother. Thank you both...so much."

With that, he walked over, hugging Chloe hard, before following suit with Max.

"Ooof! Think I'm really - really glad that I'm not feeling much through the morphine right now." Max murmured, smiling all the while.

"So, when do you get to go home, Max?" Joyce inquired.

"A couple days at most. They just want to make sure I'm okay. But I'm really looking forward to being back in my own bed...having the whole family in our own house." She said, beaming a smile at both Chloe and Rachel as she spoke.

Rolling her eyes in a good-natured fashion, Joyce muttered, "Don't be so quick to rush out of the hospital. Believe me. You have it good right now; you can ring the bell, and get a nurse to rush in and help you with the baby any time day or night. The hard work starts the moment you leave. You think you girls have seen dark days before? Hmmmm...just you wait."

Chloe gave almost the exact eye-roll in return and said, "Oh Jesus Mom, you make it sound like the end of the world or something."

 _And believe me, as someone who's actually kinda seen the end of the world, I know what I'm talking about!_

Max reluctantly chimed in, "And Victoria did it solo. I mean, she seemed to get through okay..." Chloe noticed her trail off, giving a meaningful look in her direction. No doubt they started to recall the same memories. The days after Miranda was born, when Victoria barely held herself together; the times that she succumbed to emotional freakouts, or that one time she spent a good five minutes sobbing in the corner of their living room during a stressful visit.

 _Okay, but look at Victoria now! She is like UberMama, totally together and in charge of that two year old toddler of hers._

Joyce could see what was going on in their heads, smirked, and teasingly stated, "There's a reason you're an only child, Chloe." She winked at Max and added, "Don't think you weren't a little terror either, Max, or so your parents used to tell me."

 _A-a-lright Chloe. No worries. Don't panic. You were mayor of an entire city for almost two decades. You can handle one little baby. So what if you're pushing forty? And uh...ummmm..._

She turned, and with a pleading look in her eyes unsuccessfully hidden with a bad attempt at a casual smile, said to her mother, "You know what might be awesome...Grandma? You and David moving in with us. You know, just for a few yea-uh-months. Show us the ropes, how it's done. Might bring us closer together as a family." She paused, smile widening. "No, _definitely_ bring us closer together."

Joyce gently bounced Rachel in her arms, and blinked. Blinked again, and turned to David. They held that gaze between them for a few seconds, before simultaneously dissolving into hysterical laughter. This went on until Rachel started to fuss, prompting an immediate halt from Joyce, who cooed at and tickled her.

"Oh, ohhh...did Grandma wake you up? Soooo sorry. Soooo sorry, yes. Chloe just said the funniest thing, yes she did!" With that Joyce handed Rachel over to Max, who nestled the little baby against her chest.

Chloe groaned, covering her face up with her hands, simultaneously furious and trying to keep from laughing herself, because it _was_ funny. Kinda. Sorta? She was comforted when David and Joyce together enfolded her in a hug, her mother murmuring, "Chloe, I will love you forever, and I'm sure I'll be a frequent hanger-on in your home, but this is something you and Max need to face together. Humans have been powering through childrearing forever; you'll do just fine. Better than most."

Chloe didn't know what else to say, so she simply stood there, hugging back and waiting for the inevitable to begin.

If parenthood was a videogame, at least the hospital would be a pleasant tutorial level. The real game would start soon enough.

* * *

 **September 2033**

"Baby...?"

Chloe drooled intently on her pillow, doing her best to accidentally-on-purpose pretend that she couldn't hear Max...or the sounds of Rachel's cries.

"Sweetie?" the voice called out, more insistent this time.

It wasn't until Max began to shake her, calling her out by name that she knew the jig was up. Blearily, she glanced up at the clock, the ghostly, semi-holographic numbers suspended in a razor-thin plastic sheeting burning a brilliant blue, taunting her with the lateness of the hour.

 _Three AM. Still? Fuck...I just...fell...asleep!_

To say that the last three months were hell would be an obvious exaggeration, but Chloe quickly surmised that Purgatory was made up of hungry, crying, poopy babies in the middle of the night. And on nights like this, her mother's voice constantly rang through her mind.

" _Just wait until she's crawling and walking. Then the fun_ really _begins_ "

With a low, sickly moan, Chloe did her best to emerge from the warm, inviting bliss of the bed, and clamber onto her feet. Apparently, the message didn't make it to her legs, and she found herself misremembering how the whole concept of gravity worked, falling out of the covers and hitting the floor face first.

"Chloe!"

Snorting, she muttered, "Hmmm...huh? Wha?"

"Are you okay? Did - wait. Did you land on the floor and then fall back asleep? I've been trying to get your attention for a whole minute!"

Pulling herself painfully back up, Chloe answered blearily, "Wha-? No. Of course nachos. Dingo getchum. Be...right...bacontacos."

Stumbling almost drunkenly through the hallway to the nursery, Chloe struggled to pull her various mental bits and pieces together. She had to admit, after a few months, there were improvements. In those early days, it was absolute pathetic to witness her trying to carry Rachel around or change her diapers. So worried was she about accidentally hurting the newborn that she treated her daughter as if she were made out of fragile crystal.

Those days were long gone; certainly, infants needed special care and caution, but Chloe was now a complete and utter pro at changing Rachel without having to expend any conscious thought on the effort. Still, she did curse, for the eight hundredth time, the added care and difficulty involved in cleaning up girls versus boys.

With Rachel still crying, Chloe scooped her carefully up, the initial sleepiness instinctively burning off as she carried her into the master bedroom. "Hungry, huh? Can't say I blame you. Good gig you got here, Rache. Let me know if there's another opening."

Handing the baby over to Max so she could nurse, Chloe laid out on the bed, struggling to stay awake. Her wife was still convinced that if they both fell asleep while their daughter was still in the bed with them, it would be the worst thing in the world, ever. Chloe wasn't so sure, but she knew better than to try and argue, especially on this.

All she knew at the moment was that she ached all over, her body throbbing physically from the lack of sleep.

 _Ohhh...oooh Tornado. My misunderstood friend, Tornado. If you feel like cashing in that twenty year debt I've accumulated, go for it. Just leave Max and Rache safe, and we'll settle up, yeah? Just you and me._

Chloe didn't really mean that though.

Well...mostly.

* * *

 **March 2034**

Chloe was in a good mood. Her birthday was next week, for one thing; while the passage from her twenties to her thirties were met with kicking and screaming, moaning and self-pity, forty actually seemed kind of cool. Old enough now to inescapably be recognized as an adult, but still young enough for people to say, "Hey look. It's Chloe. She's cool for an adult, especially because she's not fifty."

There was also the fact that she was enjoying the positively jubilant aura that Max currently radiated at the breakfast table.

"Say it, Rache. C'mon baby, say it for me. Say 'mama'? Say 'mama'?"

 _Heh. You've totally lost your mind, Max, but damn if you don't look adorable at the same time._

"Ma...ma!" Rachel burbled. It wasn't the first time she'd said it; _that_ joyous moment was half an hour ago, but Max was completely grooving on repeat performances.

"Yaaaay! You did it! You did it! Awww baby, you made Mama so happy!" Max cried out, leaning in and nuzzling their daughter with her nose, until the little girl shrieked with delight.

Chloe had to admit that this was an absolutely awesome moment in her life; as cool as she still played it, she was absolutely abuzz with bliss. Motherhood suited Max; in all the years they were together, Chloe couldn't recall ever seeing her wife so content or fulfilled as she was this morning, with Rachel speaking her first words at last.

She glanced over at the pair of them, pretending to be reading the news on her tablet, and felt her throat tighten up.

 _Damn, you know, I wasn't totally sold at first on this whole breeding thing; I didn't want to admit it to myself, but maybe in the beginning it was more about making Max happy than anything else. But right now, right this moment? I can't believe I wasted all this time just working on my career. Shoulda quit years ago! Look at our little family. We hella rock together!_

It was a vaguely foolish notion of course; it was only recently that they were financially secure enough to allow the both of them to take time off to focus on those critical first months in Rachel's life. Max would have to return to her teaching duties soon, and her commissions were piling up. Chloe was bringing in some income with long-distance consulting and article writing. The ironic bit was that while they may have lost some years with the wait, by building up their fortunes, the quality of those remaining years would be all the better for it.

Laughing low to herself, Chloe turned back to her display, letting Max continue to gobble up the moment. Which is why she missed it initially when Rachel suddenly reached out with questing arms, and asked, "Dada?"

Chloe blinked, putting her tablet down on the table. "Wait, what?" She stared incredulously at Rachel, who repeated, in an almost sing-song tone. "Daa-daaaa."

Max gave a giggle, and rolled her eyes. "No, sweetie." She pointed towards Chloe. "Meema. Mommy." Max pointed to herself. "And Meema." Pointing back again.

Chloe didn't have the heart to tell her that she wasn't in love with the idea of her being called 'Meema', as much as Max seemed attached to the notion. It struck her as inauthentic and overly-cutesy. Forced, as opposed to a natural development. She had jokingly referred to herself as "Daddy" once or twice over the past few weeks, when she was playing with Rachel, or changing her. Just when it was the two of them alone. She didn't mean to sink Max's idea directly; "Daddy" was just her playful bit of rebellion.

But...but maybe...

"Can you say 'Meema'? Me-"

"Hey, uh. Wait a second. How come I can't be Daddy?" Chloe interrupted.

Max was wholly unprepared for the question.

"Uhhh..." she drawled, clearly not sure how to answer. Blinked, and then finally said, "Well sweetie, I know you're only about to turn forty, but maybe you didn't notice you don't exactly have Daddy parts." She winked and continued, "And uh..heh...I don't know, Che. I just don't want to confuse her. Daddy has a certain meaning and..."

Straightening up, and going straight into "Mayor Mode", Chloe pitched her case with aplomb, "Now hold on here. Confuse her how? Is it any more confusing that most families have a male and a female as parents, but not ours, not all families? Is it any more confusing that two men or two women can get married, not just a man and a woman? Once you take out all the issues of biological sex and weird gender construction, what's a Father, really? While it often traditionally refers to a male role, as a verb it also simply means to beget. By my reckoning, a Daddy, a Father, is the genetically contributing parent that doesn't carry the fetus to gestation. And you know damn..." She winced, catching herself. That was a dollar for the swear jar. "...dang well that definition applies to me. She's related to me as much as she is to you. So..." Chloe crossed her arms, and smiled. "Let her call me whatever she wants. And if she wants to call me Daddy, then that's what I want, too. We're the last people in the world who should be defending the ramparts of traditional heteronormative gender construction."

Max stared at her, dumbstruck, her jaw falling open. Tilted her head quizzically, before brightening with a smile. "Wowser. Okay, first, I forget how absolutely awesome you've gotten at the whole political schtick, Mrs. Uses-Big-Words-When-She-Needs-To. Second uh..." she blushed, and laughed at herself. "I'm sorry baby, I didn't realize it meant that much to you. I honestly didn't. And...and I can't believe I totally started channeling like, ancient nineteen-seventies Mom. Because you are right, you are so right..."

Chloe leaned in close, tilting her head and planting a kiss on Rachel's cheek. "Well, I guess I didn't realize it meant that much to me, either. It was a spur of the moment thing but, I mean, clearly it's not just some weird whimsey. It feels right, you know? Like something meant to be. If it takes, it takes, and if it doesn't, it'll work itself out anyhow. "

"Mamadada!" Rachel giggled.

Max took a long, appraising look at her, pride obviously shining in her eyes. "Well. Alright then. Daddy."

Chloe leaned in and kissed Max sweetly on the mouth. "Mommy."

They held hands, smiling like loons, until Chloe chose to break the moment by saying, "You realize I'm totally making you call me Daddy whenever we're alone in the bedroom now, right?"

Max reflexively covered up Rachel's ears with her hands. "Oh God, Che! Not in front of the baby!" she admonished, with a look of both disapproving shock and embarrassed good cheer.

"Oh she's too young for us to leave any _permanent_ mental scarring." Chloe joked. "Isn't that right, Rache?"

"Dada." she answered, as if that was all that was required.

* * *

 _ **A/N:**_ So originally this was going to be one looong (as in, covering twenty five years at least) chapter of moments in Rachel, Max, and Chloe's life together. Then I realized that this sort of thing might work better if I released it in short little chapters like this. It keeps me motivated to write, even though I have it all sketched out in notes. And frankly, it's probably easier for you all to digest than something that's 12K to 15K. Anyhow, I hope you enjoy fluff, because there's more of it to come.

Happy 2016 everyone!


	14. Chapter 14

**December 2038**

"Daddy! Daddy lookit! 'm skatin'! 'randa 'n me are skatin!"

Rachel waved furiously from the roller ring as she wobbled slowly on her rented skates. Miranda Chase, Victoria's daughter, not to mention the birthday girl, was playing the role of dutiful 'big sister', helping her stay on her feet.

"C'mon, Rachel! Just watch me...watch what I'm doin' okay? We're gonna make you an awesome skater today!" the older girl proclaimed.

Chloe waved back in return, smiling. The two girls had grown up together and were like peas in a pod, despite the difference in age.

 _Gotta hand it to Tori. She's doing a pretty awesome job as a single mom. Not the road I would have walked down, certainly not by intention, but hey, if it works for her, then cool._

"Juicebox, Madame Mayor?" Victoria said teasingly, holding out a silver foil pouch. Chloe glanced over, and then smirked, laughing.

"Oh my God, when did they start putting out glasses of wine like this?" She grabbed the straw and punched a hole, then took a satisfying sip. She wasn't much of a connoisseur, but free booze was still free booze. "And damnit Tori, you know that was a long time ago."

"Not soon enough, let me tell you. And yeah. I know. I do it because you know how I love to annoy the shit out of you."

They laughed together, before Victoria spoke up, "Too bad Max couldn't make it, but I know she's trying to get the absolute best shots she can to wrap up her new show. I mean, I tried to tell her maybe to take it easy this month, but what do I know, I'm just the gallery owner. You think I'd be the one going nuts over this."

"Yeah. Well. Max _is_ driven. But that was the agreement, too. I'm the stay-at-home Daddy, so she can still go out and bring home mucho bacon. I mean, I still contribute, with the whole lobbying and consulting and training rackets. Hate it when it takes me away from home, even for just a day or two. Thank god for light rail though. Lot easier to get into the capital than it used to be."

They both sipped their wine in silence as they watched the girls squealing with delight, up and down the rink.

"Man, I can't believe kids are still rollerskating, Tori." Chloe glanced over towards the colorful, cartoonish party decorations. "Or that Steven Universe is still somehow 'a thing'. I mean, don't get me wrong, awesome show is awesome, but that was twenty five years ago. Somehow, I imagined the future would be - uh - ummm..."

"Uniformally futuristic?" Victoria suggested with a smirk.

"Hah. Something like that."

"Well, I guess life never goes in the direction you expect it to." Victoria paused, reaching over to snag a handful of popcorn, which she then began to eat one delicate kernel at a time. "At least, if you're doing it right. But, we can't complain much, right? We're still doing what we want, more or less. We've got...let's be honest here, pretty awesome kids. We got food in our bellies and a roof over our heads, and that's a more than what's happening in a lot of the rest of the world."

Chloe nodded once and said in a soft voice, "I seem to remember and old song, about life being what you made it."

"Oh sure. If you're lucky enough."

Chloe held out her juice pouch, as if to toast. "Well, here's to being lucky enough, then."

Victoria gently smooshed her pouch together. "I'll drink to that. Hey, so, later tonight, when the kids are all in bed: are we still running off to that new vapor lounge-slash-nightclub? We haven't had a proper girls night out in for-fucking-ever."

"Ha ha! Yeah...yeah. My folks agreed to watch'em both for the rest of the weekend. Huh...you know, I can't believe I'm about to ask this, but you ever wonder if we're getting too old for that kind of shit?"

Victoria gave her a look of disbelief. "Seriously, Chlo-lo? We're barely in our forties. You're buff, my ass is still fantastic, Max still has a toned rack. We're not ancient. Just because we're mommies..." she paused, and smirked knowingly. "And daddies, doesn't mean _our_ life is over either. I mean sure, we're now the supporting characters in our kids stories, but that doesn't mean _our_ story up and ended. It's all about keeping the balance."

Chloe finished up the rest of her wine, and tossed the empty container away into the trash. "Hah. Well, thanks for the perspective check. I can't believe I needed one. From you of all people."

Victoria shrugged. "Well _I've_ never stopped being awesome, and I'm always willing to share that awesomeness with my friends. Now, lets see how well we skate with some cabernet in our blood."

* * *

 **July 2040**

Rachel laughed gleefully, as she rolled around the carpet of the 'interaction room' in the pet store and rescue shelter that Frank Bowers had run for the past two decades. Rachel's seventh birthday was just around the corner, and she had, much to Chloe's consternation and attempts to convince otherwise, asked for a dog as a pet.

 _What's wrong with cats? Cat's are the bomb. They take care of themselves, and come pre-programmed to poop in a box. Boxes that now completely clean themselves because we live in the future, and the future is awesome._

Chloe was, to put it mildly, not a dog person. Bongo was her first pet, the one to steal her heart away, and she'd been a staunch supporter of Team Feline since. But she was an even bigger sucker for her daughter. Rachel wanted a dog, more than anything else...

 _...and who the hell am I to say no? She does her chores, her grades are good. I was a politician, I'm good at giving people what they want._

It was Max's idea to go and adopt a mutt from Frank. Chloebarely had the heart to tell her wife that she'd rather go to one of the higher-class breeders in the surrounding countryside, with pedigrees and papers and some paper training...

" _And crazy problems from all the inbreeding. C'mon Chloe, you_ have _to do this. Frank's not a family friend, but he_ is _a friend, and it'd look really shitty if the former mayor of the town wasn't supporting the local economy."_

Damnit, but Max had a point there. And it was true that...well...

 _The days when he and I were at each other's throats was forever and a day ago. Guy's been selling dogs longer than he was ever selling drugs. Never tried to call in favors or shit when I was mayor, always wanted to make his own way as a member of the business community._

And so the matter was quickly settled.

It was precisely nine point three seconds before Rachel found 'The best dog in the whole world! Seriously, Daddy! Seriously!"

The female puppy in question was a mutt. A German Shepard by and large, but with other bits thrown into the mix.

Frank stepped up behind Chloe, as she watched Max and Rachel play together with the potential housepet to be.

"That one's a good choice. One of Pompidou's great, great, great whatever the hell grand kids. I would have suggested that one, if your kid hadn't already gone straight to her."

Chloe shifted a little nervously, a question burning right on the tip of her tongue.

"I...ah...I hate to ask, Frank, but...I remember your old dog could have a hell of a mean streak when it wanted to. Is _that_ dog gonna be...alright, for her?"

Instead of being offended, Frank chuckled softly. It seemed the past two decades wore down the worst of his rough edges. He clapped her on the shoulder and said, "Don't worry. I treated Pompidou right. And his kids. And those kids after. Down on the line. Like I'm gonna let the former Mayor of Arcadia Bay's daughter get herself a bad seed. But hell, even if you were just some nobody off the street...you know, I take pride in what I do. Besides, no offense, but I know damn well _you_ couldn't handle a full-on rescue dog." He canted his head to Max, "Her, maybe. Your girl, for sure, someday. But...heh, not you."

Chloe blushed, and murmured, "Sorry. More nerves than anything about - about dogs in general. Never a big fan but.." She sighed softly. "Gotta admit, she really seems to have a new best friend. They just immediately clicked, didn't they?"

Frank smirked, nodding his head. "Some folks, they just have the touch. The gift. Like...they immediately understand an animal, and animals know that they're a friend. Rachel...I mean...Rachel Amber, she was that way. Pompidou knew her for what she was as soon as he saw her. Seems like your daughter's the same way. Makes me wonder sometimes...you know? If this is her way of coming back?" He sighed gently. "Would be nice. The universe owed her."

Chloe turned fully towards Frank and gave a casual shrug. "Gotta say, the fact they share a birthday is spooky. But cool. I mean, I don't wanna put anything on her, because who knows. I don't want to read into the fact that she's got blonder hair than either Max or I, or how she is with dogs. Just let her be a kid. But..." she nodded slowly. "Yeah, maybe this is how Rachel gets the life that got cut short the first time."

The two of them just glanced at each other for a long few seconds; their eyes met and a moment of shared pain and understanding passed between them. They'd never spoken more than a few words over the years, regarding the truth of Rachel Amber's death, and who'd been the one to murder her. It was ancient history now; something to bind them together, no matter how tenuous the link might be.

Rachel finally ran up to the both of them, the puppy gleefully barking and nipping at her heels

"Daddy! Daddy! I want this one! This is her! I'm gonna call her Trixie!"

"Oh yeah?" Chloe tilted her head. "Weird name for a dog."

Rachel shrugged. "Don't care. That's her name. I just...I know it."

Shaking her head, Chloe tried not to smile too wide, and turned to Frank. "Alright, well. Let's get down t'bidness then. I do believe we have a new family member to bring home."

* * *

 **August 2041**

"Awww, God! Look at this...bullshit!" Chloe groaned in disgust, waiving around the ultralight tablet she was reading the latest news on as she ate breakfast with Max.

Mouth still full of waffle, her wife could only point towards the 'swear jar', an electronic toy jar with a debit card reader on the top, wirelessly hooked up to a bank account. Grumbling as she rose from the dining table, and retrieving her card, she swiped it once, and said, "Total. Fucking. Bullshit!" giving it two more swipes for good measure.

Swallowing at last, Max asked, "So what's got you riled up this time. Oh wait, let me guess..."

"Ricky Sedac." they both muttered at once.

"Seriously! I can't believe this do-...di-...idiot got gets elected to Congress to represent us! Jerk is totally owned by the oil companies, and I can't believe that's still a thing. They know they're a dinosaur, they know they've lost, but he keeps lobbying away, and specifically picking at the clean energy subsidies. _Now_ he's trying to completely kill the excess energy production credit in the state. That thing's _my_ baby! It's like he's not only trying to seriously discourage people from going with a distributed power grid, but he's going for the jugular here in the Bay...and me personally! The hell this asshole gets off? And yes, I'm keeping a tab, I'll settle up later. But...how the fuck does this guy keep getting elected?! It's almost the middle of the Twenty-first century!"

Max sighed delicately, spearing a piece of waffle, and bringing it up to her mouth, chewing and swallowing before answering, "Sweetie, you've been complaining about this guy for years. Unfortunately, Oregon still has this kind of weird conservative core outside the cities, and people are continuing to freak out over the world getting more and more progressive. Anyhow, he's up for re-election next year, right? Why don't you just run against him, and then _you_ can be the Congresswoman for our district."

Chloe paused, blinked. Her jaw dropped and stayed low for a second before she closed it.

"What? No. No no, I...I couldn't...I mean, I gave that shit up almost ten years ago, so we could start a family. That part of my life is done now. Me, going back into politics? I'd be backsliding."

Max rolled her eyes, along with her head, overemphasising the action. "Oh God, please. Now you're a lobbyist and a consultant. You never got _out_ of the politics game, you just switched positions on the team. Hell, you looooove politics, just as much as you love telling people you hate it."

:"I refuse to confirm the correctness of your statement." Chloe grumbled, though the half-smirk on her lips told the tale; Max had her dead to rights.

She shook her head, "But sweetie, I figured the whole stay-at-home-for-the-most-part Dad routine was working well. I should stay in Rachel's life as much as I can. How am I gonna do that if I'm a federal Congresswoman?"

Max rose up, walking to the fridge to get more orange juice. "Congresspeople go into DC like what, barely a week a month now? A lot of the work is done through telepresence. So you take the hyperloop to DC, and then you're back just as quick, when you have to show up in person." She held up a hand. "I mean, if you _really_ don't want to run, don't. Find a candidate you like, and work on their campaign. I mean shit, Maggie taught you enough of her tricks, you could easily be a campaign manager. And don't pretend that the Oregon Democratic Party hasn't been begging you, year after year, to run for office again. You're still a rockstar in their eyes." She laughed lightly, and continued, "But just do _something_ , baby. You know sitting on your butt and yelling about Sedac doesn't do wonders for your blood pressure.

Chloe gave a bit of a pout, and leaned back in her chair. She pondered, clearly weighing the notion in her mind.

"Huh? I suppose Rachel's old enough now, she's in grade school, it's not like I _need_ to stay at home anymore."

Max walked back, letting her robe fall open just a bit, as she sat down, nestling into Chloe's lap, and wrapping her arms around her wife's neck. She leaned in and whispered, "And you've always been kind of sexy when you wield supreme executive power."

Chloe leaned in, their mouths just an inch away from each other. "Oh yeah?" she murmured playfully. "You realize I'd only have junior legislative power at best?" She stole a quick kiss, pulling Max firmly against her.

"Oh well." Max whispered. "I guess I'll just have to settle for you being plain dead sexy then."

Their mouths met in a firm, deep kiss. Chloe rose slowly up, laying out her wife on the table, and grinning down at her knowingly, grateful for the fact that Rachel was off playing with friends and wouldn't be back home anytime soon.

Max parted her robe all the way now, and spoke in a breathy, inviting voice, "Still hungry?"

"Oh...I could still eat." Chloe replied, before leaning in to plant a trail of kisses on the other woman's chest and abdomen.

She started making the calls the next day. By next November, she'd be damn ready for a fight.

* * *

 **November 2046**

"So as you can see Congresswoman...well I'm sorry to have called you in, but given the situation, I thought it was best - seeing as your wife is also a teacher here - not to give any appearance of favoritism." said Principal Morgan, a stern but ultimately fair woman of Asian descent, who replaced Wells several years back.

Adjusting her necktie, and recrossing her legs, Chloe glanced over to Max, who was doing her best to hide a livid expression from her face, arms crossed defensively as she seethed.

She nodded, and said, "Of course. Certainly. You're well aware of the extreme distaste that Max and I share for the - ah - the bad old days in Blackwell history, and the.." she paused, not that she needed to gather her thoughts, but it never hurt to look like she was trying to weigh her words with consideration in situations like this.

"...we were both personally and deeply affected by how the Prescotts ruled this school, and the town as well, like their personal fiefdom. So naturally, now that _we're_ in positions of power, we don't want to come off as hypocrites." Max interjected.

Chloe was still painfully aware of how the tables had turned since those early, turbulent days of her youth, that seemed so far and distant now; to go from a disenfranchised youth in constant trouble with the law, angry at everyone and everything in the world, to her current position: former beloved mayor, currently beloved congresswoman, significant financial donor to the school.

But unlike Ray Wells, Connie Morgan didn't seem to care a damn about it. Oh sure, she was aware of it, respected it, but didn't let it affect her decisions.

 _Fucking good for you, too! So many people have spent so much time trying to toady up to me. Nice to find one brave woman in this world who'll stand their ground. God knows Max and I are the pushovers, compared to some of the other parents of precious snowflakes._

The principal nodded as she adjusted her glasses; it was a curious, almost antiquated affectation in a modern world where bionic and laser corrective eye surgeries were almost as commonplace and simple as an ear piercing.

"Good. I'm relieved to see that you understand the gravity of this incident. Not that I thought otherwise, of course!" She held up a hand. "If anything, the two of you are some of the most responsible, and dependable parents of children attending this school."

 _Oh well, I guess you gotta butter me just a little, huh?_

Chloe leaned forward, "Of course. We appreciate that. We're a team after all, the three of us, and we only have Rachel's best interests at heart. So naturally..."

Max didn't let her finish. "I can assure you, Principal Morgan, we are both well aware of the magnitude of what our daughter's done. I apologize, and I'm sure my wife does as well, for her conduct. She _will_ be appropriately disciplined."

Chloe blinked. It was a long time since she'd seen her wife on the warpath. Truth be told, she'd little idea what it was that Rachel was in the shithouse for. Something about getting into a fight with another girl? The answer would be coming soon enough. The politician in her advised that the best course of action was simply to nod and look in absolute agreement.

She crossed her arms for extra emphasis, trying her best not to laugh when she realized that she'd become the perfect mirror image of Max.

Morgan seemed satisfied. "Of course, Mrs. Price-Caulfield. I have complete faith that you'll handle the matter properly. As for her academic punishment, naturally I feel it would be best if I gave Rachel the same as Faith: one week's detention, which I will allow you to oversee.

 _Yeowch! I would hate to be our daughter right now, Maxima._

After handshakes and final pleasantries were exchanged, the two of them walked out of the office. They approached the bench where Rachel was stewing, her shoulder length blonde hair matted. A black eye was forming, and there were still some scratches down one arm. She was absolutely seething, a mirror of her mother in miniature.

Max pointed down at her, and then then stabbed a finger at the door. "In the car, young lady. And you can tell your father exactly what happened."

All but ignoring Max, the girl turned straight towards Chloe, holding out her arms pleadingly and started to huff, "First off yo, I didn't start anything! It was all Faith Boyce. I mean, crap! Should be giving me a medal for standing up against that bitch bully!"

Max hissed, "Rachel Vanessa Price-Caulfield, language!"

Chloe gave a soft, internal sigh. Max loved their daughter, of that there was no doubt. But ever since Rachel turned thirteen and started attending junior high at Blackwell, they'd been at it like cats and dogs. Part of it was driven by Max's desire to see her daughter, who was bright, gifted, talented excel to the best of her potential. But...

 _...you've been a teacher too long, Max. And you're a more than a little sensitive sometimes about how her behavior reflects on us. I wish you'd chill a little but...I guess If I were in your shoes, I'd be acting the same way. Maybe._

Still, it struck Chloe as curiously twisted that Max was becoming the 'bad cop', with Chloe unintentionally assuming the role of the softy father.

 _Hah. I guess I'm just like my Dad, in the end._

Chloe put a gentle hand on Rachel's shoulder. "Just tell me what happened, kitten." She bit her tongue, immediately regretting it, as Max shot her an angry glare. "I mean...uh...we're very disappointed in you. Fighting?" She shook her head, vainly trying to ameliorate her mistake.

Rachel smirked, "Right, so, like...Faith was picking on the new girl. Don't remember the name, but she's from one of those countries that's toto underwater now? Venice, Netherlands, I can't remember, but the new girl and her family were refugees. And Faith, she was all snapping into her with "God hates you and your people, which is why he sent a flood to clean your wickedness. And God hates people who don't speak English properly, and nyan-nyan-nyan." She snorted loudly. "And I tried to ignore it, I know...she" Rachel canted her head towards Max, "Is all about how I need to tell a teacher or get an adult or - pfft! - wha-evs. But I did try to tell her to just knock it off at first. I did...Daddy! For re-eelz!"

 _Oh boy. Daddy huh? You don't call me that anymore, unless you're trying to butter me up. And damn, the way these kids talk today. Did I sound that goofy, forty years ago?_

"Yeah well, talking doesn't get you battle damage like that, Rachel. Believe me, if words actually did that kind of thing, I'd come back from DC like I was run through the meat grinder."

Rachel started to laugh, and wilted under her mother's glare, as they clambered into their car.

"Take us home!" Max intoned; the automotive AI responded with a few chirps, and began to drive them back on autopilot.

"So Faith..." Chloe prompted.

"Yeah! Well, I told her to step back and spin down and get over herself, so then she starts snapping into _me_! And her program is all about how you guys are sick freaks, and I'm some fuc - uh - fraked up mutant. And how you cheated to win the election two weeks ago, Dad. Same crap on repeat, on and on. Grrr! So I just...I just..." she held up a fist.

 _Wow! Go you!_

Is what Chloe wanted to say.

 _I mean, Faith Boyce, IS a fucking bitch. It's like her Grandma came back to life in her or something. It's a shame that kind of ignorance and sickness still lingers around after all this time, but you still have crazy racist people too. Shit takes a long time to change._

The part of Chloe that wanted to shoot her daughter a high five for standing up to a bully warred with her need to be something of a responsible parent, or at least to not undermine Max.

Chloe settled for sighing dramatically, and covering her face, giving her head a disappointed shake. "Rachel, violence just causes more of the same. You throw down with her, and then she has to thrown down back some other time, and one of you keeps escalating it, and then where does it end? If it seems like we're being hard on you, it's because we have a responsibility to make sure you understand the severity of the situation. You can't go around just punching folks for being idiots."

 _Believe me, I would have murdered at least eight people by now, in my career, if that were the case._

Rachel slumped back as far as she could in her seat, and sulked. "I thought _you_ woulda groked it." she mumbled through gritted teeth.

"Well, I can't always be Fun Dad, Rachel. I'm a parent first." Chloe then glanced over to her wife, as if to say, "Babe, tag in! Tag in!"

Max was more than happy to, "Well, you'll have plenty of time to think about ways you could have handled the situation better, between detention, and being grounded for two weeks."

"Two weeks! But...Mooom! You can't, that's - that's not fair! Miranda's gonna take me to Portland! We were gonna do the Maria Mercuria concert!"

"Well, you should have thought of that before."

Chloe groaned inwardly, and did her best to tune out the rest of the battle playing out in the car. The one that didn't end until Rachel ran screaming up the stairs and into her room.

The next morning, Chloe woke early, sneaking out of bed, and gently padded down the stairs. She smiled lightly, as she found her daughter calmly eating her cereal before school. She sat down at the table next to her.

"Hey." she breathed out.

"Ohae." Rachel said flatly.

 _Damn teen slang..._

After an awkward moment of silence, Chloe leaned in wrapping an arm around her daughter, and said, "The next five minutes did not happen. And I will strenuously deny that they ever did if you ever bring it up, especially to your mother; trust me, I have no moral qualms about leaving you out to hang if I have to save my own skin. Now, with that said, give me some fucking knuckles, kiddo."

She stuck out her first. Rachel blinked, confused at first, and then smiled shyly, reaching out to bang her own fist gently together.

"R-really?"

Chloe reached across the table, snagging a two-day old donut from a box of leftovers, and started to munch. "World's a different place these days, kitten. Although...maybe not that different. Seems I remember being told in school that violence never solved anything. The tune may be louder now, but the dance is the same. And that's right, you know, as a general way of life, violence is...exhausting. Trying to understand your opponent, get them to at least agree to give you some breathing room, and just basic respect - well - it's long, hard, arduous work. But it works out better in the long run. Trust me, I know, better than most people. It takes time, a lot of time, more than most people can stand, to build bridges, to get people to understand, to treat you like a human being. When Grandma Joyce was your age age, it was still illegal for people like your Mom and me to be married. Worse yet, some people wanted to keep us from finding work, or even try to kill us. But look at life now? Faith Boyce is the last of a dying breed. She's scared. You know why? Because she, and people like her, lost. A long time ago. She knows it in her heart, and can't accept it yet."

Rachel grumbled darkly, "Don't feel like _I_ won anything."

Shrugging, Chloe answered, "And that's why, sometimes, you gotta pop a bitch in the face. As a woman of peace, sometimes you have to declare a bit of war and throw down. It frightens and confuses the hell out of your enemies, especially when you declare peace again right after."

Rachel grinned gleefully at that. She leaned in and whispered. "Thanks, Daddy."

Chloe took another mouthful of donut, and mumbled, "Welcome."

"Uh - ummmm. So. Can I still roll with Miranda and see the concert?"

Chloe turned, just in time to spit out what she had in her mouth, before she started laughing.

"Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha! Oh fuck no. You are still seriously hella grounded. I may be awesome, but I'm still your father. Also: your mother frightens me. Very much. It's kinda sexy though."

Rachel made a face. "Ewwww!"

Chloe just laughed as she looked for a sponge to clean up the floor with.

* * *

 **A/N:** Hey folks! Wow, so...this "Life with Rachel" arc is working out to be longer than I initially expected, but I guess that's not a bad thing. By my estimation, I've probably got about three chapters left until the end of the story, but who knows..maybe it goes up to 4 or 5. Now that Chloe's 52, time keeps on slipping, faster and faster.

BTW, can I just say how difficult it is to try and figure out how kids will be talking in 30 years? Guh! I can barely understand the youth of today as it is.

Have a great weekend!


	15. Chapter 15

**July 2048**

Rachel strode into the dining room one Sunday morning, near the end of the month, just a few days after her birthday. There was a swagger in her hips, with a shit-eating smirk on her lips; for Chloe, glancing over the paper thin screen of her e-display, it was like looking into a mirror. The kind of expression that Chloe herself wore around that age, when she was looking to antagonize the hell out of her Mom and Stepfather.

Of course, Chloe knew exactly what was about to go down; she didn't have as long and successful a career in politics as she enjoyed without learning a few tricks, the least of which was making sure to stay ahead one step ahead of her opponents. Granted, part of her felt a pang of regret at having to consider her own daughter as such...

 _...but I know damn well that sometimes 'teenager' is just another word for dipshit. Hell, I should know better than most._

Rachel was dressed in a tight fitting outfit made up of nylon, suede and vinyl, something that Chloe would best describe as the nineteen seventies getting way too drunk with the early Millennium, and then spitting out a love child that almost but not quite worked. But the kids seemed to like it. Of course, she was fifty-three, so what the hell did she know about current fashion, as her daughter liked to remind her. Of course, now they had-shirts and pants with animated graphics and colors that crawled up and down the arms and legs; it was the sort of thing Chloe would have literally killed for back when she was a teen.

 _Damn kids get all the cool toys._

Her daughter sat down at the breakfast table, a smile burning across her lips, highlighting the gleeful glint in her eyes that screamed, "I'm about to show you old farts how awesome I am, because I'm young, and you've never been cool." She reached out across the table, one bare arm exposed in her mother's direction as she grabbed the glass carafe of pineapple juice, oranges now being more less extinct.

"Rachel Vanessa Price-Caulfield, just what is _that_ supposed to be?" Max asked. She stabbed a finger at the vibrant, glowing blue morpho tattoo on her daughter's bicep, its wings lazily flapping in a repeating loop. There was something unnatural in the way the image moved across skin; it gave Chloe the willies, but at the same time, she considered getting her own sleeve tattoo modified with similar nanoink technology.

Chloe hid her smile, as she sat back, waiting for the fireworks to begin. There would be hell to pay later on, for not having brought Max into the loop, but she was hoping the payoff at the end would net her at least some small measure of forgiveness from her wife.

Rachel tilted her head, lifting up her brows in a faux-innocent, 'who, me?' expression. "This? Oh. Just a birthday gift for myself. I even bought it with my own money and everything, Mom. I mean, I _am_ fifteen now. It's _my_ body, I should be able to get ink on it if I wanna. Especially something as zhway as this! I sketched out the design and everything. This is so super tawt."

Chloe winced.

 _Damnit, is that how I sounded when I used 'hella' in every other sentence?_

"Rachel!" Max exclaimed with exasperation, rising up to take the bait as was clearly intended. "You're _barely_ fifteen. And you are way, _way_ too young to have a tat. Which is _exactly_ what we told you two months ago when you asked us about it!"

"But Moooom!" Rachel interrupted. "Dad has a tattoo..."

Chloe kept her face hidden behind her e-paper, but held up her right arm. "Yo." she droned. The sleeve art still looked as colorful and bright as the day she first got it, thanks to some recent touch ups. She couldn't see, but definitely felt Max's burning glare cast in her direction.

Rachel smiled in triumph, "And yoooou. You have that wrist tattoo as well."

"And the chest tat." Chloe intoned. This time she earned a soft smack on the back of her head.

"God damnit, Chloe. This isn't funny! Would you back me up here? Rachel, your father and I have tattoos, but we were legal adults when we got them. Hell, I was twenty-one, and she was eighteen." She looked expectantly in her direction, and Chloe responded. "Oh. Yeah. That's actually true."

Well, Chloe was _pretty_ sure she was of legal age when she got the first one. It was over thirty-five years ago, so she couldn't really remember, but she wasn't about to disagree on this point. Chiming in, she added, "Look, Rache, I think the point that your mother's trying to make is that you're still wait too young for that kind of thing, especially for school, and...um..."

She drifted off, not sure how to continue. Because truth be told, this kind of body modification was becoming more and more fashionable, at a younger and younger age. To a certain extent, there was an argument to be made, that she and Max were being unreasonably strict. On the other hand, Joyce flipped out and had kittens when Chloe got her own tattoo, so there was some karmic shit rolling downhill through the generations, to be sure.

"But Athena Jenkins got one, and she's seventeen!"

"You're not Athena Jenkins, and we're not her parents, who still had to sign off on it. Speaking of which, how the _hell_ did you convince a tattoo shop to go along with...with this!?" Max waved a hand towards the still-flapping butterfly. Chloe could see she was clearly torn; on one hand, she was obviously impressed with her daughters illustrative skills, and never wanted to suppress her artistic urges. On the other hand, she was still a fucking Mom, and this shit wouldn't stand. Not in her house. Not after Rachel originally asked a few weeks back about getting a tattoo, and was specifically told by her mother - and Chloe backed her on this - that she was too young.

"Ooooh, there's this girl, who kinda likes me, over at The Illustrated Man, over in Lincoln City. I told her my folks were cool with it, and...and she just totally bought it. That's how epicly on-top I am, Mother Dear." She casually tossed her hair to one side. "I mean, look at it this way, it's just how impressed people are because you and Dad are kinda famous."

 _Oh. Kids are saying epic again? Well that's good, it's nice to see the classics coming back into style._

"Rachel! I swear to God, sometimes..." Max's voice rose in temper, and now that she'd goaded her mother into a fight, Rachel started to clamber to her feet, clearly relishing the conflict she was expecting.

Until Chloe, put down her electronic paper, cleared her throat loudly, and looked up at the both of them.

"Sweetie," she started, lifting a glass of juice up to her lips, and taking a short pull. "Let our now exceedingly doomed daughter enjoy it while she can." Glancing at her smartwatch, she added, "You know, won't be more than another three or four hours, by my estimation, until it's gone."

As one, the two of them turned to her, and asked at the same time, "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

Chloe leaned back, hooked her fingers through her suspenders, and explained, "Oh please, Rachel. Baby, maybe you thought going an hour down the road was clever, but I was still the God damn mayor of Arcadia Bay, not to mention currently the Congresswoman for this entire district. Let me guess, Felissa, that was her name, right? She stepped into the back room for a few minutes after you asked?"

Rachel blinked, not liking where this was going, from the look on her face, as she glanced down at her tattoo, cupping it with one hand as if she could desperately save it from the fate her father decreed. "Y-yeah. She said she had to get the inks..."

"Yeah. That was her giving me a call. Asking if you actually had parental consent. I told her I'd fill out the online form and make it all legal, but she was only allowed to use a temporary nanoink, and she couldn't tell you about our little chat. Gave her a pretty sizable tip, so I'm glad to see she held up her end of the bargain."

Her daughter started to sputter, disbelieving. "Wh-wha-what?! That's...that's not fair! How could you do that to me?!"

Chloe glanced up, meeting her expression dead on. "Easy. I'm your father. That means sometimes I gotta be a hardass for your own good. You know, 'cause it's not fair your Mom has to play 'Mean Parent' all the time."

She crooked up the corner of her mouth, basking in soft glowing expression that prompted from her wife.

Rachel deflated, and gave a sniff, "But...but I paid money for this! Like a lot. That's not fair, now I can't get it back!"

Chloe took a deep breath, narrowing her eyes, any playfulness in her voice, now gone. "No, you can't. We made it clear when you asked us two months ago that you couldn't get a tattoo. I seem to remember saying that we'd be willing to consider it when you were seventeen, but not before. And you tried to go behind our backs and do it anyhow. So you lose the tattoo, you lose the money you paid for it, and oh, yeah, you're also seriously grounded for a week. So think about today, before you try to blatantly antagonize either of us like that again."

Rachel's eyes bore into her, hurt, betrayed. Chloe spent the majority of her daughter's fifteen years being "Cool Dad". The good cop. The softie. She knew this had to hurt a hell of a lot more than if Max alone brought the hammer down.

 _Sorry, kiddo. I love you, but that's the point. It's gonna hurt more, you're gonna know we're serious, if it comes from me. Like this. Seventeen year old me would totally have your back on this, but guess what? She's been gone a long time now._

"I hate you!" She sputtered, in a clipped, singular burst, before turning and storming out of the kitchen.

A few seconds later, Chloe returned to her breakfast, snagging a piece of bacon-flavored textured protein, and chewed quietly on it, doing her best to ignore the painfully searing ache the entire exchange produced in her heart. She glanced over sideways, giving a gentle sigh as Max wrapped her arms around her, planting a head on her shoulder.

"You knew? The whole time?"

"Yeah." Chloe murmured. She still wasn't happy, having to hurt her little girl like that, but she understood it was for the best.

"I should be just as furious at you as I am at her, you know." Chloe felt her kiss her neck, softening the words.

"I know. Sorry. I had to build up her moment of triumph in order to sharpen the sting of her fall, and no offense, baby. I love you with all my heart, so you understand what it means when I say you fucking suck at acting." She tossed a playful wink, and tried to lean in and steal a kiss from Max, who jerked back for a moment, shaking her head, before pausing and then relenting.

"Sorry. I know sometimes I've been really shitty when it comes to not being - ah - as strict as you are. It's tempting to just let her get what she wanted, especially when tats these days can be taken off in a few minutes, but it was the principal of the thing, yeah? She asked you...okay, she asked _us_ something, we told her no, she did it anyhow. I know sometimes you feel like it's just you alone out there, laying down the law. Early anniversary gift; I wanted to remind you that I have your back. I'll always have your back. She traced her fingers down that back, until it came across Max's rear, gently lifting and pulling her into her lap.

Max sighed delicately, wrapping arms around her neck. "She's gonna hate you for weeks. You know that? She always figured you were wrapped around her little finger."

Chloe shrugged, twitching her pursed lips. "Yeah, well. She still does. But I'm also still her father. That, and someone already has a bigger, better claim to my heart."

Their lips met, sharing a few tender, intimate kisses. While the frenetic passion of their youth might be a thing of the past, their mutual love was stronger than ever.

"Besides," Chloe whispered. "Think of it this way. For once, _you_ get to be the one that goes up to her room in a little while and softens the blow."

Max blinked. "Oh my God. I do. For once, I so totally do." She turned and hugged her tightly.

Chloe went back to chewing her faux-bacon, a triumphant grin on her lips. "You're welcome, babe."

* * *

 **November 2050**

Life seemed stable, pleasant even, as of late. And these were usually the moments that Chloe found herself on the lookout for some great plot complication or difficulty to meet head on. It was a product of her double existence as both a politician and a parent, and God knows sometimes she had trouble figuring out where one ended and the other began.

All the same, Chloe was determined to make the best of the lull in activity that the last week in November brought about; past the frenetic action of yet another successful campaign for re-election, beyond the familial expectations and responsibilities brought about by the Thanksgiving holiday season.

It was a cool, calm, Monday evening in the Price-Caulfield homestead, just after dinner. Rachel was well into her senior year at Blackwell, already preparing to spend her Christmas break sending out college essays and applications, although truth be told, there was really only one place she had her heart set on. But the start of the last year of high school seemed to bring a change out in Chloe's daughter, a pivot into the beginnings of actual young adulthood. The three of them agreed to send Rachel out for the previous Summer months to a "college camp" program run by the University of Washington, specifically designed to give high school juniors and seniors a taste of college life: living in a dorm room, taking responsibility for meals and studying, and overall getting a sense of what awaited them if they took that actual step towards higher education.

Rachel came back transformed; not radically so, not a completely different person. But certainly calmer. More responsible. Where as before, Chloe was used to steeling herself for the hot-and-cold running relationship between mother and daughter that colored Rachel's teenage years, the two of them were now getting along well, genuinely so. Her grades were the best they'd ever been, and she was excelling with her artistic and extracurricular pursuits as well as her academics.

Chloe paused for a moment, as the weight of it struck her, all at once.

Her little girl was all grown up.

To be sure, there would be days to come, no doubt, where Rachel would ask her for advice. Confide in her, cry on her shoulder. Maybe get into trouble, and need to be bailed out. But the child who happily played pirates with her for hours on end, who cried herself sick when her dog went missing, or screamed with indignant frustration when her attempts to sneak out of the house ended up in yet another grounding finally faded away. The innocent waif, coloring on her tablet, drawing pictures, excitingly dragging both father and mother to look at her latest creations, lived wholly and utterly in the past now.

Chloe bowed her head, peering at the glass of dessert wine she was nursing.

 _God. I really don't remember getting older. Where did the time go?_

She didn't notice Max, until the other woman sat down next to her, placing a couple of plates of key lime pie before them. "Hey sweetie. Are you okay?"

"Hmmm?" Chloe blinked, snapping her head up. "Oh. Oh yeah, I'm fine. Just, pensive, I guess. thinking about Rachel. I can't believe it, she's almost off to college."

Max laughed lightly, "I don't know about 'almost'. She _does_ have most of a year of high school to get through, you know."

Chloe shook her head, poking at Max's ribs playfully. "You know what I mean. It all went by so quickly. This chapter of our lives, the one where we had this beautiful little girl, and raised her up. It's almost over. I wish I...I wish I'd paid more attention, while it was happening. Stopped and enjoyed it, smelled the roses. I don't know. I feel like I'm about to lose something I can't get back, and only now do I realize, too late, how special it was." She took a deep breath, and stared straight ahead. "Was I a good father, Max? Was there more I could have done? Is it too late to..." She laughed once, blinking her eyes quickly, to keep them from tearing up. "I feel like I'm losing my daughter, and she hasn't even gone anywhere."

Max kissed her cheek, reaching over to squeeze her hand. "Oh my God, listen to you. A glass of muscat and you sound like you're gonna burst out into a maudlin rendition of 'Sunrise, Sunset'".

She leaned in close, feeding her a piece of pie. "So no, Chloe Price-Caulfield, you were, and you still are, an awesome father. She's always been daddy's special girl from the beginning, and she probably always would be, even if you hadn't been home all those years from the start for her. But even with the craziness of being in Congress, you always made sure to have time for her. You did your best to get to every play and recital. You totally blew off those committee meetings to sit by her bedside when she got that really bad case of mono. And played peacemaker through the years she and I were going at it." She shook her head again, "No, baby. You did everything you could, and then more. We have a pretty amazing daughter. And she may be grown up, but you're always going to be her Daddy."

"Plus, you know." she continued, her voice dropping lower, throaty. "Once Rachel takes off to college, we can finally look into traveling the world. You know, the way we talked about?" Chloe brightened up considerably at this, nodding, leaning in to nuzzle her nose against her wife's. As much bittersweetness as her daughter's transition to adulthood brought, it was readily tempered by the excitement that a new chapter in life held, barely a year from now. She was already making noises about this being her last term in office, and Max could easily take a year's sabbatical from school. The promise of getting reacquainted with her wife of thirty-one years did much to lift her spirits.

"You know, speaking of travel and Rachel heading off to school, I was thinking...assuming she keeps her grades up and all, let's get her an aircar, you know? One of those new autonomous quadcopter things."

Max blanched, "Oh lord sweetie. Really?"

"What, you don't think we're spoiling her, do you? I mean, if she earns it, she earns it..."

"No no." Max said. "I don't disagree, it's just...I don't trust those things. Like, at all."

Chloe laughed. "Yeah, that's because we're the horse and buggy generation, babydoll. I mean, what, those things have safety chutes in them. Imagine how popular she'll be if she could just dart off to...uh...to wherever, just for the day. Er..." she stammered, losing her train of thought. "I mean, if she ends up, you know, exactly where she has her heart set, it would make it easier for her to come and visit for the weekend."

"It _would_ , at that..." Max mused.

But before the pair of them could continue, Rachel walked in the door, calling out. "Hey! I'm home. Thanks for letting me eat at Diana's, I think we got most of the work done for our final group presentation. Whew!" She quickly made her way over to the dining room, sparkly, emerald-hued locks glinting in the light from the fixtures above. She smiled eagerly, as she sat down at the other end of the table. "Oh! Hey, pie. Can I have some?"

"Of course!" Max got up, and cut her a slice, laying it out before her.

"Thanks, Mom." Rachel softly said. Then grinned mischievously. "How about some wine. Can I get a glass too, Dad?"

Chloe rolled her eyes, snorting bemusedly. She pushed over her mostly empty glass in her direction. "You can finish this. Doesn't exactly go with lime, though."

"Wow. That's really sweet. The wine, I mean." Rachel remarked, after quickly downing what dregs remained. "I could probably appreciate it better if I had a little more." Chloe gave her a disbelieving look, prompting her daughter to laugh. "Just trolling, Dad."

The three of them settled in, eating their dessert and making pleasant small talk until Rachel finally cleared her throat, speaking up.

"So...I wanted to ask. I mean, there's someone at school, someone I like. You know, double-like? Can I invite them over for dinner later this week?" She gave a nervous roll of her shoulders. "Gleesh, sounds kinda formal, huh?

 _Wait, what?_

This was the first that Chloe was hearing about Rachel expressing any sort of presumably romantic interest in anyone. Ever. She always assumed her daughter was a late bloomer, and given her own rush into any number of disreputable hook-ups and short, tempestuous affairs before she finally settled down with Max, she wasn't inclined to take any sort of interest in why her daughter was or wasn't dating until now. Oh sure, maybe she asked Max once or twice about it, but they agreed it was something they ought to let her come around to in her own good time.

She racked her brain, trying to figure out who the young woman might have taken a shine to. Since most days,Rachel either carpooled with her mother, or rode her own motorscooter to school, it wasn't like Chloe had the chance to pick her up at school. Although now that she was putting brain cells to the task, she could have sworn she always saw Rachel hanging out with a pair of kids of Indian descent, male and female, the few times she caught glimpses of her after some sort of sporting event or school presentation.

"Oooooh!" Max chimed in, giving their daughter a knowing look. "I bet I know exactly who it is, too."

"Mooooom!" Rachel laughed, blushing as she bowed her head halfway, smiling all the while.

"I thought I saw you spending an awful lot of time with Sandi Choudry. That's who it is, right? Riiiight?" Max leaned in, teasing playfully.

 _Sandy? Sandy?! Hey! That's...that's a girl's name, right? Oh! Of course! No wonder Rachel took her time. No wonder she never dated until now. She was obviously trying to figure out how she felt about...oh kiddo! I wish you would have come to your Mom and me, to talk about this kind of thing. Probably convinced yourself you had to take your time, you didn't want to assume you were gay just because you were the daughter of a same sex couple. Ha! This is great! My little Rachel, bringing home her first girlfriend. And whoa, she was really cute, too. Not like I was paying too much attention, at the time but..._

"Well, great!" Chloe suddenly burst out. "This is great. Yes, of course! Tell her to come on over for dinner. I'd love to meet Sandy!"

As one, Max and Rachel came to an abrupt halt in their eager chatter. Each wore identical expressions of confusion and trepidation as they turned their focused attention on Chloe.

"Uh...Dad...?"

"Oh. Oh God, Chloe..no. Sweetie, Sandi is..."

"It's short. Y'know, for Sandeep."

"Yes. Sandeep Choudry. He's in my hologramatic art class. Super-smart kid...er..boy...sorry, guy! And he's..."

"Whoa! Whoa whoa whoa. Wait. Wait just a damn...a guy?!" Chloe held up her hands in protest, head reeling from the sudden mental whiplash. "But, wait, no, I seriously...I saw you with a girl as well. I mean, _that's_ Sandy, right?" Chloe protested, in violation of obvious common sense.

"Ohm-G, Dad! Shakti? That's his sister! You thought I was crushing on _Shakti_?!" Rachel said, clearly trying not to laugh. "Dad, she's one of my best friends. That's how I met her brother."

"Since when?!" Chloe protested.

"Since the start of the school year? Shakti's ultra-schway, she and her family moved here from New York, 'cause I think her Mom works for AkashaDyne as some sorta materials engineer? And her Dad does tech-nu-raga music, you should hear him on this crazy computerized sitar thing of his...

 _Oh my God. What the fuck? I...here I was, wondering if I've been a bad parent, and I don't even know what's going on in my own kids life?!_

"Ahem! Okay, wait." Chloe said, suppressing the curious urge to catch her breath. "Okay, wait. This... _this_ is different! I didn't realize this was some teenage _boy_ you were wanting to bring home. And start dating! I mean, as a beginning...well..." Chloe grappled for the right words, decades of political speechmaking utterly failing her at the moment. "You're still so young, and I think maybe this is too quick! I'd like to find out a lot more about this boy, a _lot_ more, and..."

"Dad! What the hellza?! A second ago, you sounded like you were ready to send out wedding e-vites when you thought it was Shakti!"

Chloe reached up, tugging at her hair, grown up to her shoulders by now, stilled dyed black with royal blue bangs, a trademark she couldn't bring herself to abandon. She avoided looking at her daughter's baleful expression, casting about for a little sympathy and help from Max.

Her darling, wonderful wife Max, who was clearly going to be on her side and...no? Oh hell, the one with the biggest, cat-who-ate-the-canary smile. Who immediately started softly humming the chorus to Joe Jackson's "It's Different For Girls". It was a teasing prod, a humorous reminder of a rather stoned conversation the two of them once had about five years ago - not long after Miranda Chase came out to her mother - when they began to speculate on what Rachel's sexual orientation might ultimately shape up to be; Chloe might - or might not - have said something to the effect of "I hope she ends up gay. Because you know, it's different if she's dating girls."

Rachel crossed her arms, narrowed her eyes, and said, "So what's the problem?"

Chloe immediately began to speak, without taking the time to actually analyze her feelings, or consider the ramifications of what she was saying, "It's...it's complicated, Rachel! I've been with guys and I've been with girls. And I settled on the best one." She glanced over at Max, who smiled at the flattery, but still shook a finger in her direction. "But, the way it goes, you know? There's different things to consider, if you're with a woman, as opposed to a man. Because guys. Boys. Teenage boys! At that age! They've only got one thing on their mind, and...and...and I might also point out that there's credible scientific evidence that girls are mature, much more mature, at that age than boys. As your Father, I'd be doing a shitty job..."

"Chloe!" Max admonished.

"...if I didn't look out for you. Because yeah...it's different. It's...different." Chloe concluded.

Already she began to regret it. The look that Rachel gave her. Tinged with shock, like she was seeing something new, and altogether unpleasant in her.

"Wattyeff?!" Rachel exclaimed. "I can't believe it." She threw up her hands, then planted her fists on her hips, leaning in close. "I can't believe you, Dad! I thought you were all open minded, and cool and liberal and all that other stuff you and Mom try to tell me I should be. But look at you! You're like...you're just...you're acting like some bigoted _heterophobe_ or something! Like what is this, reverse Jim Crow? Are you gonna start channeling Valerie Solanas, next?"

Chloe sputtered, "Now - whu - hey! - just - I! - Gah! Okay! First off...I have no clue who the hell that's supposed to be."

"Ch'eez Dad, I know it was almost a million years ago, but read a book."

"But seriously! I am not a...I'm not a bigot! Damnit! I'm the new leader of the Northwestern Congressional Neo-Progressive Caucus, for fuck's sake! " Chloe was angry now. Furious. She just wasn't sure who at, exactly, but she had a growing suspicion.

"Chloe!" Max chided anew.

Throwing her hands up, she rose from the table, pulled out her debit chip, and swiped it several times across the reader of the electronic 'swear jar' sitting on the kitchen counter. "There, fucking paid for the next few in advance, as well. Now young lady, I'm not some close-minded, mouth breathing, hateful retro..."

"Prove it." Rachel interjected.

"What?"

"Prove it. It's easy. I'm not gonna run off and have his sixty jillion kids tomorrow or something, Dad. I _like_ the guy. He is sweet, and smart, and funny, and treats me nicer than almost anyone else. And you should see him playing soccer, oh boy." Rachel started to rub her bicep as she made her argument, cheeks flushing. "And I want you to meet him, because I think you'd like him, too! And his family, they're chill. You know, assuming you aren't too busy declaring our house some sort of radical separatist compound..."

Chloe walked back, with careful, measured steps, returning to her seat. It was all of fives seconds before her shoulders and head slumped forward.

 _...fuck! Look at me. Look at what I'm doing. How did this happen? When did I get so old, set in my ways? How did I just fall into this trap?_

She stared down at herself, in the reflection from the silverware, and for the first time, truly saw the lines of age etched on her face. It'd happened so slowly, she never really noticed until this moment. Not that she had anything to be ashamed of; every crows foot, every laugh line, every wrinkle was earned, the hard way. They were her badges of honor, her battle scars, her reward for making it this far.

But she never really felt them, until this moment.

 _Chloe Price, you are a lot of things..._

...but she sure as hell was no shameless hypocrite.

Looking back up, she nodded once. "I apologize, Rachel. You're right. It's just that..." Chloe paused, then changed tracks. "You know what? I'm not even going to try and make excuses. I got into a weird, stupid place a minute ago. Of course your Mom and I want to meet the guy who's got your attention. I should be happy that you _want_ to bring someone home, someone you're dating. I mean, hell, I never was with anyone I wanted to actually show off to my folks until..."

"...until me, obviously." Max said with a lilting laugh.

"So yes, please. Invite him over. Thursday good?"

"Yes!" Rachel triumphantly rose to her feet, and for the moment, it seemed all was forgiven. She walked over, wrapped her arms tightly around her father's neck, and kissed her cheek. "Thanks, Daddy! I'm gonna text him right now." She darted out of the dining room, pulling out her phablet.

"Ask him what he'd like for dinner!" Max called out, and then trailed off softly. "More than happy to figure out how to cook Indian, but I don't...I mean, that seems oddly condescending?" She asked, turning to Chloe.

"Hey, we'll figure it out."

Max leaned over, kissing her other cheek. "He really is a lovely young man, Che. I can't fault Rachel's tastes, and I think they would make an absolutely wonderful couple. Believe me, I know it's a shock, but I'm sure you'll get over it, and learn to keep loving our daughter, even though she's..." at this she put a hand to her forehead and mock gasped. "...straight!"

Chloe grumbled at first, then cracked a slight smile. "She could still turn out to be bi, you know?"

"Yeah, you keep reaching for those stars, lover."

Rising up to her feet, Chloe said, "But, just to be safe, all the same...excuse me, I need to make a private call." And in a rush, she was out of the kitchen.

"Chloe!" Max called out. "What the...what the hell are you doing? Who are you going to call?"

"I'll be back in a few minutes!"

Max sat there, finishing off her slice of pie, and fearing the worst. She'd just gotten up to make herself a cup of coffee when Chloe came back out, with a mildly chastened, sheepish expression on her face.

"So what was that about?"

"Uhhh..." Chloe started to answer, rubbing the back of her head. "I kinda put a call in. Straight to Camilla Davies' office."

Max blinked. "For cereal? Jeez Chloe, the Director of the FBI?"

"Uh. Huh. Yeah!" Chloe gave a single nervous laugh. "Wouldn't you know it, I'm apparently not the first Congressperson to ask the FBI to run a background check on their daughter's new boyfriend. Like...even this week."

"Oh...sweetie." Max walked over, wrapping her arms tightly around her wife. "You're adorable when you try to abuse your political powers."

"Got a whole department, you know? That handles that kind of stuff." Chloe responded, leaning in to nuzzle back."

"Hah. Baby, it really isn't the end of the world." Max chided.

"I know. I know, I know. Um. How about we go out, yeah? I know you just made coffee, but there's that new cafe in town, and I'd really like it if we just went there and hung out. And we could spend an hour or two pretending that I'm not this horrible dinosaur, behind the times, totally-not-with-it overprotective parent."

"Hon? You're a wonderful father. Definitely not a dinosaur. Neanderthal, though? Yeah, definitely."

Chloe gave Max a playful swat on the rear before they quickly announced their intentions to their daughter and headed off.

* * *

 _ **A/N:**_ I can't remember exactly when I figured that Rachel and Chloe would get into this weird reversed bit with her orientation, but I remember knowing it was definitely going to happen. The bit with Chloe calling the FBI afterwards to do a background check on her daughter's new beau? That actually was a LOT more fleshed out in my mind, and was going to turn into this lengthy bit, but when the time came to do it, I realized that it was just going to kind of go over like a lead balloon, and just drag the chapter out at a point where it'd reached it's natural conclusion. So I leave it up to you to imagine the kind of conversation Chloe and the Director of the FBI had. :-D

It's also funny (to me, at any rate) that for the last three chapters, I've been saying "There's only three chapters left to the story." I still feel like that's true, but we'll see how that holds up. What was supposed to be one chapter appears to be taking three.

Anyhow, have a great night, kids!


	16. Chapter 16

**November 2050**

"Is he here yet?"

"Not yet, sweetie." Max replied.

"Mom! Is he here...?" Rachel started to call down from her room.

"Not yet! Your father just asked me not two seconds ago." Max answered, before giving Chloe a jokingly exasperated look.

Chloe paced nervously, fidgeting and adjusting her suit jacket, cut in a men's cheongsam fashion. Traditional Asian influences were very much in vogue over the past five to seven years, and while Chloe - along with Max - thought she looked pretty damn good in it, at the same time she fretted.

 _Geeze, always that worry about cultural misappropriation. On the other hand, if Asians adopted a ton of Western style years ago, how come we can't return the favor? Anyhow...okay Chloe, you're worrying over nothing. I mean...this is your daughter's first real boyfriend - potential boyfriend! Gah. He should be be bending over backwards to impress_ you!

All the same, Chloe spent too many years as a politician, often concerned to the point of obsession with personal appearance and style, along with whatever messages her looks, actions, and words sent out to the rest of the world. She never failed to amaze - or dismay - herself, how she went from 'rebel without a cause' iconoclast to - well - she wasn't exactly sure how best to describe it, except to say that after having seen Carrie-Anne Moss in 'Jessica Jones' almost thirty-five years ago, that was definitely the foundation from which she projected out her various style incarnations over the decades.

Max sighed softly, batting away at Chloe's hands, and tidying up the mess she'd made of her lapels. "You're going to be absolutely fine, babe. As long as you don't - you know...just don't say or do anything stupid. Easy, right? Use those finely honed political instincts, the one's that have carried you so far in life...not to mention paying off the mortgage on the summer house in Calgary."

Chloe laughed lightly, resting her forehead against her wife's. "And when those fail?"

"Easy! I'll start kicking your shins under the table." Max replied with a poisonously sweet smile.

"Damn. Guess I'll give the reconstructive surgeon at the hospital fair warning then."

Chloe stole a lingering kiss from her wife, their moment suddenly interrupted by a melodious chiming at the door. She glanced quickly in the hallway mirror. As she straightened out her sleeves one last time, she hissed out, "Alright. Showtime, Synergy."

Max snickered. "Wowser. That's an old reference, even for us."

Chloe impishly laid a soft, open palmed swat on Max's backside as she walked towards the door. Jerked her neck back side to side with a satisfying crack, and then loosened up her shoulders, before pulling her lips into the exact smile that won her countless campaigns in the past. She then opened the door.

While she'd seen the pictures of Sandeep Choudry in the past - Rachel practically forced all of the ones she had in her face last night - she had to admit that photos alone didn't do the young man justice. She didn't have to be straight to appreciate his good looks - lean, with a runner's build, jet-black hair and caramel colored skin -or the charm of his bearing; the soft, easy-going smile, the cute wire-rimmed glasses - clearly an affectation considering the operation to have bionic lenses installed were almost an outpatient procedure in this day and age. He was possessed of an almost regal bearing and posture, but he didn't project any air of arrogance. At first glance, she was tempted to write him off as merely 'squeaky-clean', but it was clear that behind those eyes, there were more than a few braincells banging around. At the very least, there was nothing about him that set off immediate alarms...

 _...which means he's either really a nice guy, or a master manipulator. Ooookay Chloe. Time to play it cool. Adult Mode: Activate!_

"Hello. You must be Sandeep. My daughter has told me so much about you." She stepped back into the house, and swept towards the interior with her arm. "Won't you come in?"

Sandeep walked inside, and Chloe could see him quickly appraising his surroundings; she knew that look. The quick read, trying to gather as much information as possible about a new locale, to figure out how best to adapt and behave. It reminded her of herself, during those times she was trying to address a new constituency on the campaign trail, and looked for some commonality or expectation to latch onto.

"It's great to meet you at last, Congresswoman!" There was a light accent in his voice; Chloe guessed Brooklyn, considering what Rachel told her about his family's origins. "Oh, these are for you." At this, he held out one of the two parcels he bore; for Chloe, a bouquet of gorgeous blue lillies. "A couple years ago, when you were speaking at the dedication for the new biodome at Blackwell, you specifically mentioned your fondness for lilies. I have a friend who owes me a favor, so...anyhow, I hope you enjoy them!"

Chloe gathered them up, smiling to herself, despite her best efforts. She didn't have the heart to tell him her statement back then was simply 'color commentary' that she made up off the top of her head, in order to have something meaningful to say at the event. But more important than that, it showed her he was paying attention, and making an effort to impress. She glanced at him over the flowers, and could see he was nervous, but doing his best to keep it from showing, or negatively influencing his demeanor.

 _Good...good for you, kid. You're courting the Queen of all Arcadia Bay, as far as I'm concerned. Glad you're trying to impress her parents as well._

"Thank you," she murmured. "They're lovely. Why don't you come in, we're just about to eat. Oh, and if you wouldn't mind..."

But he'd already deduced that they specifically took their shoes off at the door in the Price-Caulfield household, quickly doffing his slip-on's and placing them neatly on the rack.

 _Oh boy. Either you're as great as Rachel seems to think you are, or we're all going to end up mysterious shoved into the fridge in pieces after you gain our trust._

Deciding to go with the former - for now, she opened up her mouth to announce Sandeep's arrival. But it was clear Rachel already knew, given the excited thumping of her daughter's footsteps as she all but leapt to the stairs from her room. The girl halted suddenly, then blushed, cleared her throat, and elegantly glided down the stairs, doing her best to keep from looking too anxious and eager.

"Sandi. Hey..." Rachel casually waved, trying to pretend that she merely woke up with her blonde hair in a complicated plait, nails done and face lightly made up. She took his hand, and they glanced nervously at each other, then back up to Chloe.

Chloe chuckled lightly, and turned away, walking towards the dining room, announcing, "Two minutes to dinner, guys." She turned the corner, leaning against the wall, out of sight, but not out of earshot...

...she _was_ the father of a seventeen-year old girl, after all.

"You look...really amazing!" Sandeep exclaimed, prompting a soft, cooing, "Thanks." from Rachel. Chloe thought she heard the distinct sound of kissing, and just bit her lip, glancing over at Max, who was walking out from the kitchen. She then smirked in her wife's direction, holding up a finger to her lips.

"Hey...so I made ramen and pork buns, because I you told me once you really liked that kind of food when you were living in New York. Did I remember right?" Rachel asked.

"Yeah! That's brills! But...I hope you didn't cook for me just because - ah, heh - you think it's expected, being a woman and all. I would have been just as happy to make something for you." He replied.

"Wah? No. Ha ha, I mean, gleesh, it's not like it's nineteen eighty-seven or something! A girl can cook for a guy if she wants, and have it be empowering and stuff. I mean..." and with a light laugh, Rachel continued, "...there's an ancient saying about the quickest way to a man's heart is through his stomach."

"Actually, that's the easiest way. The quickest way would be cracking right through the sternum, but that's not easy at all."

Rachel laughed; maybe a little too brightly, a touch loud; he laughed along with her.

"Well good! Ha, great. Yeah, I made them, so I hope you like. I mean, I did...most of the work. I may have had my Mom show me some of it..." Rachel stammered.

"Oh damn. She's got it baaaad." Chloe mouthed silently.

"Told you." Max mouthed back, playfully tapping Chloe's chin with her fist.

The two of them walked into the dining room. Chloe smirked as she saw the young man 'snap to', in the presence of his teacher. He quickly held out the other gift in his hand. "Mrs. Price-Caulfield! I brought this for you."

"Sandi, I keep telling everyone in class to call me Max. That includes you. Even outside the classroom." She paused. "Especially outside the classroom." She opened the box up, curiously peeking inside.

"Right. Sorry. Not...not used to that. Sorry Mrs...er. Max."

Max laughed. "Oh! Little chocolates shaped like apples. Sandi, that's so sweet, not to mention clever." Chloe peered inside, laughing lightly to herself. "Well, I guess we have something extra for dessert then."

They quickly sat down to start the meal, and Chloe was happy enough to allow small talk between her wife, daughter, and Sandi to dominate for the next half hour; it was a good way to learn more about him. Not only was he in chess club - traditional, two-dimensional chess, not the weird, multi-level board stuff that was suddenly in fashion again - but he played violin, and was a rising track star.

 _Perfect. Shit, this kid is too perfect. But on the other hand..._

Chloe was willing to admit that maybe "nice" was coming back into fashion. When she was growing up as a teen, the world in her eyes was meaner, far more cynical. And why not? The political process was swiftly falling apart, corruption and bribery ruled the day, and mankind seemed hellbent on destroying the planet. A massive and ever-increasing societal gap put much of her generation at loggerheads with her parents, and worse yet, their parents. Who would blame her for growing up hardened? She was but a product of the society she was raised in.

By comparison, the year twenty-fifty wasn't perfect, but there was certainly more to be hopeful about, and a brighter future lay ahead. Global warming wasn't about to be reversed, but the absolute worst was being slowly mitigated or adapted to...assuming you were lucky enough to not be born in one of the unfortunate hellholes that sprung up before people started to get their shit together about the environment. Social and business reforms that Chloe's generation put into place softened the worst excesses and roughest edges of the "crony capitalism" that plagued the late twentieth and early twenty-first century. Parents still seemed to hover more over their kids than Chloe thought was healthy, but the kids growing up seemed alright, by and large.

 _Fuck it, if kids are nicer today, it's because they actually feel like they have a future to look forward to. Max and I weren't so certain, when we were their age._

Finally, it was Chloe's turn to talk, out of expectation if nothing else.

"So, Sandi...graduation's coming up soon. Any thoughts about what you want to do with your life?"

It was precisely the sort of question that Chloe would have despised being asked when she was that age, which is why she was so eager to put it forward; if nothing else, she figured it would be an excellent way to see where his head was at.

"Well, to be perfectly honest, Congresswoman, I haven't thought that far ahead." He paused thoughtfully, then held up a quick hand, the one holding his chopsticks. "Don't misunderstand, it's not for lack of ambition, but at the same time, I think it's important to see what's out there, before committing to a lifetime path." He took a bite of one of his pork buns, grinning at Rachel, who beamed effusively in response; chewing and swallowing, he continued, "Mom'd love for me to follow her footsteps, especially since it looks like my sister is set on being a musician like our father."

"Ha ha. Total aff. I think she's a chib jell - your Mom, I mean. But Shakti is soooooo good." Rachel blushed, at having interrupted. "Er, you're good too, but.."

"Yeah, I pose. I total pose compared to her..." Sandeep replied, dropping into a much more casual tone.

 _Oh! So you_ can _speak like a normal teenager when you want to. Thank God. Worried you were a Replicant or something._

"But you're the best, the absolute best at..." Rachel turned to Max, "Mom, isn't Sandi the total best holo-sculptor in your class?" She then looked back at the young man and grinned, "I'm pretty great at drawing, if I say so myself, but gleesh, the stuff you pull out of your head. Without trying. So jell."

Chloe could see the blush through his dark skin. Sandeep bowed his head, and murmured, "Oh - I - hah. Yeah. I guess so. I enjoy it, but it's not the sort of thing I can make a living at. It's a great past time, sure...but as a way to support yourself?" At this, it was hard for Chloe to tell if he was being honest, or merely putting on the responsibility act for her benefit.

"Well hey, why not!" Chloe interjected. "There's at least one person at the table who did, and does quiet well for herself making a living as an artist. _And_ she teaches, putting to rest the old adage of those who can't..." She leaned in, kissing the corner of Max's mouth. "Besides, this isn't forty years ago, when the government spent more on fuel for a stealth bomber than grant money for the arts. Talented people making art is an actual career path now. Hell, I say give it a shot, if it's where your passion really lies. Man, I would have killed to grow up in the last ten years, you damn lucky kids. When Max and I were in school - hah, Max more than me - real holograms were just something you read about in sci-fi stories." She took a moment to pull a few sips from her glass of wine, and then concluded, "Anyhow, my advice? As long as you figure your shit out by age thirty, go nuts."

Sandeep coughed once, nodded, and said, "Well, if I'm going to be honest, I was considering politics. Public service. I just didn't..."

"...want to come off like you were kissing my ass?" Chloe said, intrigued.

He could only nod at first, before continuing, "I've actually admired you a lot, Congresswoman. My parents moved here specifically because of the quality of life Arcadia Bay offers, and it's hard not to talk about the history of that without your name coming up. I just...it really speaks to me, the notion of public service. Making things better on behalf of the people you represent. That's something I'd like to do in my life, one way or the other."

Chloe tried not to let it go to her head. She was pretty sure that Sandeep was being honest in his praise, but it was still way too soon for her to make any sort of judgement.

 _On the other hand, I've got a need for an intern coming up..._

Steepling her fingers, Chloe said, "Tell you what, let's talk more about that later, maybe?"

The rest of the evening passed by in a pleasant blur, far too quickly for Rachel's liking. Chloe had to remind her at least once that it was a still a school night, and she'd see her boyfriend...

 _Shit, I can't believe I actually used the word. Oh well, I guess it's for real now..._

...at school in the morning.

Before retiring for the night, Chloe lay back in bed, and remarked, "Huh. Gotta admit, kid's hella nice." Max rolled over onto her side, then lay her head on Chloe's chest, kissing gently. She sleepily murmured, "Toldja."

"Yup. Remind me to call off the hit squad tomorrow."

Max hit her side. "Oh God, Che. I'm still kinda laughing over here, at what a stereotypical 'Dad' you've turned into; hardly any boy is good enough for your little girl.

Chloe shrugged, wrapped her arm around Max, and then gave her a shit-eating grin. "Well, it's true. Although Sandeep...I can see why she likes him. And he seems pretty taken with her, too. Just a shame you know; probably won't last."

Max frowned at this, glancing up. "That's harsh, don't you think?"

"Well, no. I mean, I'm not saying it to be mean, I'm not lying here in bed going, 'Oh Lesbian Valkyries Above, please cut short my only daughter's first romance'. Point being, they're high school kids. They're gonna go to college, and...drift apart and...well it's all sweet, while it lasts, but in what reality do high school sweethearts stay together and ultimately get married anymore?"

Max lifted up her head, perching her chin on her first. "Oh. Really? You really just said that? You maybe wanna take any of it back, babe? Just in case you forgot that I can't do that sort of thing for you, anymore..."

Chloe opened her mouth. Closed it, then opened it again. Pursed her lips in thought, and then held up a finger, "First off, I'd like to point out that I was a high school _dropout_. Second, _our_ romance didn't truly blossom until we were past college age..."

The rest of her argument was muffled by the pillow Max hit her in the face with.

* * *

 **September 2051**

"Mooooom. Pleeeease. Seriously. San Francisco's got more than enough water without you adding to it. I'm worried you're...you're gonna dehydrate, or something."

Chloe glanced out over San Francisco Bay as Max fussed over their daughter; more to the point, she took in the complicated levee system that kept the worst of the rising sea levels in check. Turning back to both of them, she smiled warmly to herself.

Her little girl was all grown up now. An adult, at least in the legal sense, attending her Mother's alma mater, San Francisco Art Institute, and rooming with her friend Shakti, to boot. Rachel hadn't figured out exactly what she was going to do with herself, torn between modeling and illustration. For a moment, Chloe caught sight of her golden blonde hair, the way it picked up the noon-day sun, and felt a tightness gnawing in her sternum.

 _Huh. Look at that. Look at you. It's like Rache - my Rachel - got to live the life she deserved, through you. Except if we're gonna be honest, you've got your shit together, a hell of a lot more than she ever did._

Enough time passed that Chloe could see that now; for all her talent and ambition, Rachel Amber was possessed of more than a few personal flaws as well. Even if her life hadn't been so tragically and unfairly ended, Chloe couldn't help but wonder if her future would be as bright as her namesake's.

 _Now, now, don't be shitty, Che, as Max would say. No sense in being jealous of Frank. Hell, even_ he's _married now. And Max and I...I wouldn't trade us for the world. Anyhow, if this is a second chance to do it right, to do it better...then way to go, Rachel. Way to fucking go._

"Now remember, you ever get homesick, you just get in your aircar and fly home for the weekend. Dad and I will pay for the fuel charge, and everything, and..."

"Mom. Staaaahp." Rachel giggled, gathering Max up and hugging her fiercely. "By the way, Dad? Thank you so so so so SO much for the schway aircar. The absolute beeeeeest!" she sang, glancing in her direction.

Chloe shrugged, then walked over, leaning in to join the group hug. "Flying car. Another thing I would have given my left breast for, by the way. Anyhow, you earned it, even if you did get that one B-plus on your report card..." she teased.

"Gleesh, Dad!" Rachel stuck her tongue out. "You're one to talk."

"Yup. I dropped out of high school, and got a shitty truck."

"Awww. I...I loved that thing." Max sniffled, daubing at her eyes. She stepped back, and asked. "Are you sure you've got everything? Your dorm assignment, and your classes and...uh...um."

Rachel reached out, squeezing her mother by the shoulders. "Mom. Yes. I love you, and this is uber-schway-sweet that you're having trouble letting go, but it's time for me to ghost. I promised Shakti we'd meet for a late lunch at Ghirardelli Square."

"Oh?! We could join you. I haven't been there in years..."

Chloe reached out, taking Max's hand in her own. "It'll still be there later, baby. Anyhow, I was thinking about taking you to Stormy Leather; we could get you fitted for an early birthday corset." she purred meaningfully against her ear, eliciting a deep, crimson blush from the other woman.

Rachel gave a sheepish smile and started to back off. "Oh God, you guys...don't be weeeeird, ewwww."

Chloe shook her head, "We'll be as weird as we like, young lady. Now, c'mon. One last hug, and then you can run off to freedom, sweet freedom."

A final round of hugs was exchanged. One last wave of tears was shed. As she saw her off, Chloe wrapped an arm around her daughter's shoulders, slipped a five-hundred dollar debit chit into her shirt pocket, and leaned in to whisper, "Do your old Dad a fave, and show up for Fall break, okay? Gonna take your Mom some time to get used to you being gone now."

Rachel smirked. "And you?"

Chloe swallowed hard against the sudden lump forming in her throat. She said nothing for a good few seconds, instead stepping back to appraise the girl, no, the woman that stood before her. The product of almost two decades of blood, sweat, and tears. Love and long, fearful nights, yelling, and laughter, fights and forgiveness. She couldn't help but be possessed of the notion that once Rachel walked away from her, she was well and truly her own person, at long last. And another chapter of her own life would close as well.

Chloe could understand Max's difficulty in letting go; in a very real way, they were losing their little girl, once and for all.

 _All good things have to come to an end. And all other good things start somewhere._

She all but crushed Rachel against her, and whispered, "T-take care of yourself, okay kiddo?"

Rachel pulled back. "I'll call. I promise."

"I know...see ya 'round."

She was thankful that the tears didn't start until her daughter was out of sight.

"Gonna be weird." Chloe mused, as the two of them had an early dinner at a nearby Italian restaurant a few hours later.

"I suppose so." Max agreed. "It'll certainly be quiet. Eighteen years, it's been the three of us. And then suddenly, it's not." Chloe watched as she reached across the table and took her hand, bringing it to her mouth and kissing the fingertips. "Suppose it's time for us to figure out who we are again; just you and me."

"Yeah..." Chloe whispered, her pulse quickening a bit.

"You okay with that?" she asked.

Chloe could only nod.

"Good. As much as it hurts to let her go, let's promise ourselves not to be 'those parents'. That just because the nest is empty, we don't drift apart from each other."

Chloe bit her lip, staying silent long enough for Max to prod. "Penny for your thoughts, sweetie?"

"What? Oh. Nothing. Just...thinking about all the spontaneous kinky sex we can finally start having in the living room again"

Max burst out laughing, her head lowering to the table.

"Chloe! You've really never changed, have you?"

* * *

 **June 2058**

Chloe smiled to herself as she adjusted her bolo-tie in the mirror. Maybe she couldn't quite rock the old Zatanna outfit like she did on her own wedding day, but damn if she didn't look good in a tux.

Or at least what passed for it in the mid-twenty-first century. The current fashion was more showy, less austere. Brocade panels in the nehru-collared suit jacket drew attention to the curve of her waist and hips. Knee high leather boots paired up with dark slacks, in ways that Chloe swore should be way too flamboyant for public consumption, but apparently it's what was 'hip' in this day and age. So Rachel assured her. Repeatedly.

 _Face it. You're sixty four. You stopped know what was cool or why a loooong time back. When you were a teenager, you dreamed about a future like this, where people didn't have such a formal stick up their ass. Enjoy it, now that it's here._

She reached up,touching her temples, where she allowed the silver streaks of hair to show through. The rest she still dyed black, which she'd done so long that there were days she completely forgot she was ever born a blonde.

A pair of slim, young arms came around, tugging at her lapels. "You look really fab, Dad. No worries, okay?"

Chloe smiled, gave a light laugh, and turned around. "Who said I was worried about anything? Can't I indulge in a little vanity at my age?" She then stopped short, taking in the sight of Rachel, fully atired for the wedding ceremony: a heavily-brocaded green silk sari, with a matching headdress. which partially covered the loose waves of golden hair running down her back. Arms and hands were done up with complicated patterns drawn in henna.

Chloe fought back a few tears, and breathed out. "I can't believe my little baby girl is getting married."

Canting her head to one side, Rachel teased, "You just can't believe that Sandeep and I are getting married."

"I should point out to your mom that we were both technically correct; the two of you _did_ drift apart during your college years. I'm just glad it didn't get weird, because that man was the best intern I ever had in my life. But he did almost get engaged, and there was that girl you were absolutely mooning over, senior year..."

Rachel rolled her eyes and blushed, clearly fighting to keep from biting her bottom lip and smudging her makeup. "Yeah, Dad? I don't want to say Jessica was a phase, but...Jessica was really kind of a phase..."

"Still, I guess it was meant to be...because here we are."

"Just like you and Mom, I might add. We had a great example to follow." Rachel pointed out.

Chloe took Rachel's hands in her own, and sighed softly. "Yeah. I suppose so, at that. Still, I can't believe how fast the time goes. It seems like just yesterday, we were getting you your first dog, what was her name. Trixie?"

"Ohm-Gee, Dad, Trixie was a lifetime ago!" Rachel laughed.

"Feels that way to you, maybe, but when you get to be my age, the years go by, faster and faster. And you wish you could just make time stop, or rewind it back a bit..."

For perhaps the first time in her life, Chloe said the words and failed to recall the that for one short week in October, her wife could do precisely that.

Rachel gently rested her forehead against Chloe's shoulder. "Daaad. Don't go and break out into a rendition of 'Sunrise, Sunset'. You know, like you did at karaoke after the rehearsal dinner?"

"Hey! In my defense, I was hella drunk."

"Yeah, no shit." Rachel giggled.

A silence passed between them, before Rachel said, "Just wish Grandpa Ryan was here to see it. He - ah - he really tried to hold on, near the end. Ha - damn. Have to stop or I'll make my mascara run."

Chloe gathered her daughter up in her arms and hugged her tightly, stroking her head through the veil. "S'okay. I'm sure he's watching with Grandma Vanessa from...you know...somewhere. And at least Grandma Joyce and Grandpa Dave are here."

Chloe was grateful for that much, but also painfully aware that her parents, both of whom were frightfully close to ninety, probably had but a handful of years left to them, at best. Modern medical science was doing great things, but it was also the reason that either of them were still around; even science had its limits, and both Joyce and David were rapidly approaching their own.

'

"Hey, so before we go down that wedding aisle, let me give you a piece of advice?"

"Sure, Dad. Although if this is a crack about clean underwear, I think you should know I'm not wearing any." Rachel said, sticking her tongue out.

Chloe laughed, kissing the top of the young woman's head. "Yeah. You're my daughter. But no, just...marriage takes work, okay? Don't get seduced by the lovely notion of 'happily ever after.' Don't ever think that you're going to be blissfully swept up in love forever - or rather, that love will take care of itself. Does that make any sense?"

"Huh, I dunno. You and Mom seem to make it look double-plus effortless."

"Hah, yeah. That's because you're young and only want to think the best of your parents. Believe me, Max and I _are_ forever, but there's been a lot of work behind the scenes. Times where we had to compromise, or one or both of us had to swallow our pride. There were even a couple of dark moments when I started to worry about our future together but christ, that was decades ago. Anyhow, when the going gets tough, and it will someday, don't act like the marriage is verging on failure because you hit a rough patch. Just know that any truly great love story is only as strong as the two people writing it. Together."

Rachel nodded slowly, lips parting in a radiant smile that melted Chloe's heart.

"Anything else?" she quietly asked.

"No, I think you're gonna be just fine, Mrs. Choudry"

Rachel planted her hands on her hips, and tilted her head to the side. "Oh, it's still Price-Caulfield. Not only that, but Sandeep is taking _my_ name."

Chloe blinked, and laughed as she rubbed the back of her head, "Wow. I don't want to envision the bedroom magic you must have worked to convince him..."

"Dad!" Rachel gasped, blushing furiously, and softly punching her in the arm. "As a matter of fact, Sandeep insisted on it!"

"Uh. Huh. Really. No shit?"

"Oh yeah, he's really into matrilinealism, the notion that since children come from the mother, the family should have the mother's name. He and Shakti got into this long, weird debate about it, last month."

"Always knew I liked that guy for a reason. And not just because he almost single-handedly ran my re-election campaign in fifty-two."

"...that, and his FBI background check coming clean?" Rachel poked, her smile returning.

"I can neither confirm nor deny anything." Chloe replied with a smirk.

Before either of them could continue, the soft strains of the wedding raga that Rachel's soon-to-be father-in-law composed for the occasion could be heard, signalling the start of the ceremony.

"Guess that's us. You ready, Player Two?"

"Yeah, Ready Player One." Chloe answered, holding out her arm, ready to escort her daughter down the aisle.

Rachel turned and hugged her side tightly, one more time. "I love you, Daddy. Thank you, you know? For everything."

Chloe closed her eyes tight, squeezing a few tears out from the corners, reaching up quickly to dash them away.

"No, thank you, kiddo. For making my life amazing."

Arm in arm, they walked out of the waiting area, as Chloe escorted her daughter to the next great chapter of her life.

* * *

 _ **A/N:**_ Boy, I've only been on hiatus a little over three weeks, and it feels sooooo weird to publish something, like I haven't done it in forever. Although...sorry for it being almost a month since the last time I updated this story. I still feel like there's probably only a couple chapters left to go, especially now that the "Life with Rachel" arc is more or less concluded. Seeing as how I've got six completed first drafts of Black Swan in can, I think I'm going to spend the rest of my "hiatus" trying to really push and get GD done as soon as possible. I mean, I've known from day one how it's going to end, so it's not a matter of writers block. Now that summer has come, and the days are longer, my self-motivation is returning again, as it usually does around this time of year.

Anyhow, I hope everyone is doing well. Have a happy Lets-All-Kill-Caesar Day, today!


	17. Chapter 17

**February 2060**

Chloe gathered her long, insulated leather trench coat tightly around her, the better to keep out the chill from what was a surprisingly cold winter. Fitting perhaps...almost as if the universe itself was still in mourning, barely six months after her mother's passing.

As hard as Joyce's death had been on the Price-Caulfield family, she couldn't help but feel for someone still in far greater pain: her stepfather.

Leaving footprints in the soft dusting of snow behind her, she steeled herself against the onrush of nostalgia and emotion that rose up to greet her as she caught sight of her childhood home. Granted, the actual physical house wasn't the same, but it was still the same land. Call it psychic imprint or what have you, but so many of her formative years were still bound up in this little lot.

She let herself in, pressing her thumb against the reader set into the door handle, the lock opening with a tiny click. Wiping her feet on the rug inside, she shrugged off her coat and hung it up on the rack immediately to her left.

"Hey." she called out softly. "It's me." Shrugging off her shoes, she made her way past the kitchen and into the living room-slash-dining area. Her heart ached as she appraised David: sitting in a chair, hunched over, his ninety-three year old frame gnarled with age. The gaunt, almost hollow aspect to his appearance was new; clearly he wasn't eating enough. His hands were folded together over the top of a walking cane: heavy, black lacquered ironwood capped with a carved crystal skull. It was a present, something Chloe gave him for his birthday when he turned eighty-five, because '...it's the sort of badass thing I know I'd want if I got to be that old.'

"Hmmm?" he groaned softly, blinking his eyes, as if rousing from a nap. "Oh. Chloe." he rasped, then coughed to clear his throat and lungs. "Hey."

"Hi." she breathed out. Glancing down, she couldn't help but notice the photo albums splayed out on the dining table. Pictures of his wedding to Joyce - which had long ago lost the sting they once inflicted upon her insufferable teenaged self - interspersed with what looked like a thousand-and-one images of the two of them with Rachel over the years. She took a seat next to him, leaning in to give him a close, one-armed hug.

"G-good to see you. Wasn't expecting you, though." he said.

With a wry smirk, she responded, "Geeze. Remember, I was coming to take you to breakfast today? People might think you were getting forgetful in your old age or something."

This prompted a slip of a sad smile, before he glanced down. "Not hungry."

"C'mon, Dad. I was gonna take us to the Two Whales. You know, now that I've gotten it declared a historic landmark, I get all my meals for free." She paused a beat. "Not that they were big into charging me in the past. But hey, what good is political power if it can't get you deliciously greasy food on demand?"

He took a heavy, struggling breath, and shook his head. "Not hungry." he repeated. "'sides, I don't think I could...not the Two Whales. Too many memories there."

Chloe bit down on her lips, agonizing as she observed how the once pig-headedly proud man lay defeated and broken-hearted. To think how much she hated him, once upon a time. How keenly she despised his presence, or rather, what it represented: her mother moving on from the loss of her first husband. Finding the strength to do what Chloe herself was unable to, until many years later.

But that was a long time ago. The circumstances of Arcadia Bay's destruction changed them both, allowed them to build bridges across chasms that otherwise seemed insurmountable. And while William Price may have been the one to raise her for those first, crucial fourteen years of her life, David Madsen, despite all odds, had more than won the right to be called 'father'; three violently shitty and confrontational years were more than made up by the almost half-century of friendship, even love they'd managed to cultivate together.

"Doesn't have to be Two Whales. We can go anywhere you want. Just...just name it."

With yet another labored breath, he answered, "Appreciate it, but, I just..." He trailed off, staring into the distance. And in that moment, Chloe felt a desperation tug at her heart. She needed to get through to him if she could. Otherwise, she saw herself having to make plans for yet another funeral before the winter was over.

She reached out and placed her hand on his, she spoke, low, kind, but firm, "I know it's tough, Big D. I'm not going to pretend that if I was in your place, and Max went before me, the urge to just crawl up into myself and shut the rest of the world out wouldn't be just...agonizing. To sit and wait for the end to come, so I could be with her again."

 _Oh God. Oh God, take me first, when it's time._ Please _don't let me outlive her..._

"And I know damn well that saying something fucking obvious like 'This isn't what Mom would want for you', and 'She'd grab that stick out of your hands and start beating you over the head with it if she saw you right now' won't work for you. So let me be totally unfair here and cut right to the one thing I think might."

She did her best to ignore the fact that this time, even a cutting remark failed to elicit as much as a frown from him. She went through the motions of acting like it had, holding up a couple fingers as she said, "Yeah, I know, 'Fuck you, Chloe.' But just give me a second here..."

She rose, briskly walked over to her coat, and removed a thin plastic plate from it. Walked back and took her seat again. Placing the plate down on the table, she tapped both corners at once; in response, a holographic image rose up from the surface: a picture of a fetus, with animated vitals displayed off to the sides.

David blinked, his eyes focusing intently on what was before him. "...what?" He paused, ran a tongue over his dry lips, and rose up a few inches. "Chloe?" he asked, turning his head to her expectantly.

She smiled, grateful for the tears in her eyes, all the better to drive the point home. "Yeah. I wasn't gonna show you this until after we ate, but it's clear you needed to see it now. Obviously, it's an ultrasound. Rachel's ultrasound." She sniffled, and added, "Mom didn't get a chance to see this. She won't be around when her great-grandkid is born. But you...you still have the opportunity. But not at the rate you're going."

At this, she finally reached up, wiping away the tears. "So if nothing else? Figure out what you're gonna tell her, if you get the chance she didn't, but you didn't fight for it. That you just went out quietly...before you got to meet Rachel's son or daughter." She leaned back, and crossed her arms over her chest. "If Heaven's got a couch, you're probably looking at sleeping on it, for like the next thousand years or something."

She waited patiently for a response. He glared at her first, and she laughed inside; he wasn't angry with her, not really, but he did like to play up that fiery temper of his. If he was putting any effort into it now, then there was still hope. But then his face turned thoughtful, as he appraised the hologramatic ultrasound again.

After another minute, he pushed himself up on his cane, rising to his feet; unsteady at first, but with increasing confidence, waving off Chloe's attempts to help.

"I suppose your Mother would fucking hate it if we never ate at the diner again. She did love the place. Maybe...just a short stack of pancakes."

"G-great. Yeah! That sounds good." Chloe said before swallowing hard.

"And I suppose a side of bacon. Can't have pancakes without that."

"Yeah. Whatever you want. Anything." She rose up, taking his arm as she started to move towards the door.

"Coffee, too. That automatic machine you got me can't make a cup worth shit. Problem with the world today, no one wants to do anything on their own anymore. I'd make some, 'cept for the fucking arthritis."

Chloe tried not to laugh, as they made their way out of the house.

Six months later, Kamala Joyce Price-Caulfield was born.

David passed away not long after, but he died knowing full well he could tell his wife what their great-granddaughter looked like.

* * *

 **January 2063**

With a satisfied sigh, Chloe glanced into the mirror, appraising herself while keeping a watchful eye on the movers as they cleaned out her Congressional office.

 _Damn. Twenty years, you really pick up a lot of crap. I thought I left the Mayor's office a mess, but that was nothing compared to this._

Twenty years of Federal service. Fifteen years - or was it more? - as the Mayor of Arcadia Bay. Not to mention those initial years as Alderman.

"Well, Chloe Price. This was your life. The professional part of it, at any rate."

She declined to run for re-election last year; Max was already retired from teaching at Blackwell, and making constant noises about when Chloe would follow her lead. God knows, she certainly felt the same sort of career calcification that marked the last few years as Arcadia Bay's chief executive.

It was definitely time. The DNC was still a little sore at her, owing to the fact that they lost her seat to the opposition party, but that was their problem, not hers.

 _Next time, run a better candidate, guys. Don't assume you can put any idiot in there, just because I kept the seat warm the past two decades..._

"Sorry, Congresswoman! Did you say something?" Her soon-to-be ex-page asked, as he supervised the movers.

"What? Oh. Yeah. But just to myself. Happens when you get to be my age, Jefferson. Mind's the first thing to go to shit, you know?" She laughed once, and turned sideways towards him.

Jefferson Tyler - Chloe couldn't believe his incredibly unfortunate first name, always doing her best not to hold it personally against him - had only been her assistant for the past year and a half, but Sandeep hand-picked him personally, giving the promising young man up from his own Senatorial staff after he and Rachel moved away to New York.

 _Of course, now my son-in-law's getting him back. So all's well that ends well._

"Ma'am, please!" Jefferson spoke with mock exasperation, in his light Southern drawl. "You are not _old._ Although Lord knows you're getting out when the gettin' is good. You should be enjoying the next fifty years of your life."

"Fifty, huh?" Chloe chuckled.

"Oh, easy! I was reading the other day, about this woman? In Japan? Hundred and thirty-three. Oldest confirmed living woman in the world. She can still talk about her memories of World War Two...now can you believe that?"

Chloe took a moment, to consider what that must be like. Almost twice her own age now. All of the things she'd already seen, and everything that lay before her in the years to come: Rachel's career as an award-winning animated showrunner, put however temporarily on hold to take care of her daughter. Sandeep following, however obliquely, in Chloe's footsteps, launching a political career as a State Senator from New York. And now, she'd have more time for Max, and more time for the both of them to see their granddaughter, because certainly being separated by an entire country was not the impediment it used to be sixty years ago; the GAHA Hyperloop, which started in Alaska, passed through the Continental US, across the Atlantic Ocean, and terminating all the way in Amsterdam saw to that.

This wasn't the end. This was just a stop on the way. Life promised her a fair share of good years to come. Chloe wasn't sure she wanted to see a hundred and thirty of them in total, but what the hell? As long as her wife was at her side, she could live forever.

She smiled, and then leaned in to give her former assistant a hug. "Thank you, Jeff. Believe you've managed to actually make me feel young, for the first time in twenty years. That just earned you a fucking awesome letter of recommendation, pardon my French."

"Well thank you, Ma'am!" he exclaimed, not missing a beat. "I'll give my best to your son and daughter, next week. You please do the same to your wife, of course. Thank her for the cookies, my boys loved them."

"Good! Good...uh. Tell Rachel and Sandi I figure we'll see them soon enough...swear, if we couldn't see them every month, Max'd make me pack up and move to New York. Me! I can't handle the winters there, ugh. Anyhow, it's a wonder that woman of mine stopped after just one child, the way she dotes on Kamala."  
Chloe came to a halt, realizing she was rambling. Took one look around her office, now almost empty, and then looked back to the other man.

"Have a good life, okay Jeff? Whatever you end up doing with it. I'm sure it's going to be great."

He gave her another warm smile, and nodded. "You too, Ma'am. Thank you again, for your service."

She raised a dismissive hand and turned away, walking out of the office. "Guh! I was only a politician, kiddo. What did I _really_ do? Except keep The Machine from eating people up and spitting out the damn seeds, and make sure that it actually did right by them."

And with that, she departed.

If she never saw the inside of the Capital Building again, it'd be too soon.

Max was waiting outside for her, having returned from a shopping trip in downtown DC. Chloe slowed, gathering her wife up in her arms and kissing her firmly, before taking her hand, and playfully twirling her about.

"Che! What's all that for?" she asked.

"Ooooh...just. Happy to see you, as always. Another happy ending to another chapter."

"Wowser. You're in a good mood." Max said, wrapping an arm around her waist and leaning against her as they walked towards the automated taxi stand.

"Hell, why not? Why shouldn't I be. I'm sixty-eight years young. Soon to be sixty-nine, you know. Eh? Eh?"

Max rolled her eyes in exasperation.

"Y'know? Sixty-nine?" Chloe repeated.

"Yes, God! I know, Chloe. Sixty-eight going on twelve, apparently." Max leaned in and kissed her again, all the same. "So when you're not making crude sexual jokes, what are you going to do first?"

"Huh. Dunno." Chloe reached up, touching her now silver locks. "I'm old enough now, I could get away with dying my hair blue. They say the classics always come back into fashion."

* * *

 **October 2069**

"Oh, God! Oh no! Ack!"

Max laughed as Chloe popped the cork from the champagne; she'd underestimated how much pressure built up inside the bottle, and as soon as she put some effort into opening it, the stopper flew out, over the railing and down many hundreds of feet to the ground below.

"If anyone asks, don't mention I used to be a Congresswoman." Chloe peered over the ledge, down at ground. "Might have just sparked a diplomatic incident."

The two of them were in France, celebrating their fiftieth wedding anniversary. They'd dreamed of this moment for such a long time, and put in the reservations years in advance for a table at the open air restaurant near the top of the Eiffel Nouveau, the massive structure that replaced the original after it's destruction in a terrorist attack thirty-five years earlier.

"Oh sweetie, I'm sure this happens all the time. I mean, how could it not? Besides, we'll just tell them we're Americans. And they'll roll their eyes and go 'Oh. Of course.'. Pat us on the head and laugh behind our backs."

"Hey! We're...we're not that bad." Chloe protested. "We've gotten a lot nicer over the years, as a people. I mean, we're practically _Canadian_ now." She grabbed two flutes and filled them both up with champagne, before returning the bottle to the ice bucket next to the table. Handing a glass over to her wife, she added, "Kinda. Sorta. A little."

"Yeah. If you ignore the people at the back of the tour bus today, whining about how they couldn't get a decent hamburger, and Europeans still didn't speak enough English, despite the fact that everyone's got such good translator technology now." Max countered.

"Okay, so those people sucked. But we're awesome. So that evens everything out." With an elevated tone of voice, she announced, "Let the good people of Paris know that at least two Americans out there are fantastic and love France!" With a mischievous grin, Chloe then asked, "So what the hell are we drinking to tonight, lover? I forget."

Max laughed, shaking her head, and murmuring, "Oh my God, Che, you are such an asshole sometimes."

"Yeah, but I'm your asshole." She took her wife's hand across the table, and then clinked the flutes together. "Here's to fifty years...yeah, I guess they've been okay." Winking playfully, she took a sip, and said. "I definitely got the much better end of the deal than you did."

Retirement turned out to be absolutely marvelous for both of them. Free of the fetters of their careers, and with their child fully moved out and attending to a family of her own, Chloe and Max had the time to fall in love with each other all over again. They'd spent the last five years traveling the world, and looking forward to more of the same in the years to come. Paris was to be the start of a whirlwind 'second honeymoon' tour across Europe and Asia, culminating in a fancy Pacific cruise to Japan.

But tonight? Tonight was all about celebrating a day that happened lifetimes ago, when they were both so young in body and mind, as well as spirit.

Chloe had the steak: real, actual beef, from a real, actual cow, not the vat grown "ecologically-friendly" chunks of protein most people were forced to be content with. They said you couldn't tell the difference, but make no doubt...

 _...I can so tell the difference._

And it came with french fries - sorry, _pomme frites_ \- cooked in lard. For all she knew, lard from the same damn cow of which she was now eating. That was definitely the best part of her night.

And the cheese. And the wine.

And Max. Her angel. Her inspiration. Happily enjoying the pasta dish she'd ordered, having gone vegetarian long ago.

The two of them turned as one, staring out over the city stretched out before them, sparkling lights spider-webbing towards the horizon. They continued to hold hands. And give each other knowing looks.

"This night couldn't be any better, sweetie. I wish I could..." Max started.

"Don't say it..." Chloe interrupted, a thin smile on her lips. She'd been married to the same woman long enough to know what was coming.

"...wind it back and forth in time forever. But I mean it this time." Max laughed. A distant look crept into her eyes, and in a quieter voice, she asked. "Do you ever wonder why sometimes, Chloe? Why us? What happened...after?"

Caught off guard by the sudden somber change in her wife's attitude, Chloe didn't answer immediately. Lifting a bit of steak up to her mouth and chewing slowly, she considered what the best thing she could say was, and settled on a simple, "How do you mean, babe?"

"It's just...fifty-six years ago...I saw...we saw something that should have forever changed our perception about reality. And the universe, and maybe even God...you know...just...everything! I saw reality fall apart around me from pushing it too hard. I saw a storm that I created - I think? - bear down as a consequence. And after that moment? Nothing. Nothing at all. I mean..." She bowed her head, sighing heavily. "I don't know. I'm not sure what I'm trying to say."

Chloe put down her utensils, and held onto Max's hand with both of her own. "Whatever it is, it sounds important. Take all the time you need."

Max smiled, visibly relaxing. "Just, strange. Don't you think? Our life is strange, in how normal it's been. For one week, we touched the divine. And then nothing. I mean, don't get me wrong Chloe, it's been an amazing life. Incredible. We've had our ups and our downs over the decades, but I still come away feeling like it's been all-too-charmed, and maybe even a bit...mundane?"

Chloe pondered. She had to admit that it was an issue that she used to wonder about herself. Why her, why Max? Why any of it?

"It's kind of like, for a few days, you found a unicorn. Touched it, rode it. Changed our lives, and now you're left wondering why the hell we've never seen another one since?"

Max nodded. "Something like that, I guess."

"Wow. Didn't know it was still weighing on you."

"I didn't realize either, until this opportunity for reflection came up." Max replied, before taking a long pull of her champagne.

Chloe felt her shoulders slump. Possessed of the notion that she should somehow have a good answer for this, but not coming up with one, she decided to shoot for honesty. "I haven't a fucking clue, love. To be honest, I haven't wanted to look too close. Like maybe it's a dream, and if I stare too long, or wonder too hard, I'll wake up. Maybe this is what happens to some people, who say they had a religious experience, and then go mad? They spend the rest of their lives wondering why lightning didn't strike twice? I just...I really don't know." She smirked, adding, "You know, unless I'm actually about to die, back in Arcadia Bay, on the bathroom floor, bleeding out..."

"Chloe!" Max snapped. "Oh God...don't...don't even joke about that!"

Sheepishly, she winced. "Sorry. Yeah, that was probably a bit macabre. Although if this is a dream, at least I have an amazing and sexy subconscious." She tossed off a wink, but saw that Max wasn't having it.

"I'm sorry, Max. I just don't know what to say. For a moment, the Universe opened your eyes and said 'Boo'. And then closed them again. I can't even begin to imagine what that's like, what it's been like all this time for you. But - ah - you know what? You're a stronger woman than I've ever been. I think that's the reason why, more than anything else. Because, Space Magic Power Source figured it could choose you, for whatever purpose, and then put you back on the shelf. And you could go back to living, and not go crazy. I know if it had been me, I'd be nuts. I mean damn, I brushed up next to it, and I still...I only deal with it by not thinking of it. So how healthy is that?"

Max shook her head. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to ruin our evening with heavy talk."

"You've ruined precisely zip. I didn't appreciate this was still something that was still on your mind, after all this time. So whenever you need to talk about it, for whatever reason...well, you know, that's why I'm still here."

It took a few minutes, but they managed to put the evening back on track. The initial glow might have dimmed, but there was dessert, and then dancing under the stars. There was enough beauty and mystery in the universe of the mundane variety to keep them occupied.

The rest of the vacation was absolutely lovely. But there were occasions, deep into the night, where Chloe would wake up, stare out at the moon, and wonder.

 _Am I alive? Is this all real? Or is this just the dying fantasy of some nineteen-year old girl, as the embers of her life flicker into nothingness?_

Chloe soon realized that either way, it didn't make much difference. Going back to not thinking about it seemed like the best course of action. It was working out splendidly so far.

* * *

 **December 2074**

"Baby, I'm home."

Closing the door behind her, and removing her coat, Chloe made her way towards the kitchen; she could already smell the lunch Max was preparing.

"Mmmm. French onion soup?" she asked.

Max glanced over her shoulder and smiled, "You know it. Seemed like a good day for it. Chilly. Not too bad I hope? Certainly not if you've gone out walking?"

"Oh, it's cold enough. Not that it ever gets bitter, not like it used to in the old days. But it seems like I feel it more. Probably just old bones aching."

She and Max had settled into a pleasant, if predictable routine in their golden years. There was still travel of course, but it was getting increasingly difficult to keep up with the pace; even accounting for all of the remarkable advancement that the past sixty years bore witness to, old age and its attendant symptoms were yet to be conquered. It was a lot of early to bed, early to rise. Social calls and hosted visits with an slowly diminishing coterie of friends and loved ones.

But they kept busy in their own ways. Max was taking up horticulture, going as far as having a greenhouse added to their property. Chloe was keeping in shape with her daily walks around town. She would be the first to cop to a small thrill when people waved to her, called out her name, still called her "Congresswoman." or even "Mayor", those old enough to remember.

For all of the hatred, the bitter invective she once held for Arcadia Bay, she was now inescapably part of its weft and weave. A piece of the background, a comforting expectation. Folks anticipated seeing her eating breakfast every Wednesday at the Two Whales, with the predictability of the sun rising or the tide rolling in. More than once, when she attempted to change her routine, she'd received at least one concerned phone call asking about her and her health.

"So how was the city council meeting?" Max inquired.

"Hmm? Oh, good, good. You know me, someone has to remind those damn kids how it's done. That a lot of people sweated and bled and died so they can enjoy what they've got today. All of the heavy lifting that was undertaken so that the worst they need to worry about now is zoning regulations or how to adjust property taxes. I know most of the public participation in these meetings is done online now, but someone has to show up in the flesh. Someone has to remind the people in town that Old Lady Chloe remembers how it used to be. That she still has their backs, and their best interests at heart."

Max snorted before dissolving into outright laughter. "You make your tenure as mayor sound like the epic saga of a warrior-queen. Seem to remember a lot of _your_ term was spent worrying about zoning regulations too."

"Ha ha. Hey, that's not bad. I should get to my drawing table after lunch and illustrate something. Now that the hotshot doctor I've been seeing managed to clear up the arthritis in my hands. I should do something like one of those old Heavy Metal covers. Or you know, like the old Conan comic books or something. God. Do they even have comic books anymore? Or did kids get too cool for that sort of thing?"

"Oh, according to Kamala, 'pulp-wood manga' is suddenly the hip thing again. Except she just has her home replicator print it on demand for her. It's...retro, I guess? I suppose even when you have holographic, interactive animation to contend with, people still gravitate back to what simply works." With that, Max placed the two steaming bowls of soup before them.

Chloe gently cut through the cheese and breading floating at the top, and chuckled. "Sure. Why not. We used to play old Nintendo games." She paused, long enough to take a bite. "Oh boy, there's a blast from the past. Nintendo. They still around anymore?"

Max leaned in, kissing the top of her head, before sitting down to start on her own bowl. "I'm sure I have no idea whatsoever."

"Well, thank God for grandkids, we can just have them tell us what's in style the next time they visit."

"Oh Chloe, don't embarrass them. Nothing's more embarrassing than old people trying to be cool."

"What! No way. I'm the coolest eighty-year old in the country! Kamala told me so herself."

"No, she told you that when she was five, dear. Believe me, now that's she's - oh geeze let me see - fourteen? I think? Just trust me when I say you're absolutely not. She loves you, but...you're not cool." Max mused, taking another mouthful of soup.

"...damn you for being right." Chloe sighed. "Well, we had a good run, at any rate."

"That we did, Che. That we did."

* * *

 **October 2084**

Chloe kept devoted vigil at the side of the bed, holding Max's hand, the way she'd done for the past six hours, desperately afraid to let go. She sat with perfect stillness, note daring to move, or hardly breathe, focusing intently on her wife of sixty-five years. There wouldn't be a sixty-sixth, as agonizing a reality as that was to confront. Her precious angel, her savior, the light and life and love of her existence was dying.

It wouldn't be long now. Medical technology made so many incredible advancements over the years, but immortality was not yet the purview of her generation. As it was, both of them dodged bullets that would have probably killed them years sooner, had they been living in the previous century; Max experienced her own breast cancer scare, caught early and treated to the point of full remission using custom tailored genetic therapy. And Chloe's current liver and pancreas weren't the 'factory originals', replaced with cloned implants three years earlier.

Congestive heart failure was the culprit; technically Max could have it replaced, but it was unlikely she'd survive the operation. So she didn't try. She accepted her fate, gathered up her family as close to her as possible and said her goodbyes.

The last few days were the worst. At the beginning of the week, Chloe was convinced Max fell into a final coma, only to have her make a remarkable recovery when suddenly she got up to use the bathroom and ask for a bowl of ice cream. And as tempting as it was to hold on to hope this time, she couldn't help but know, deep in her gut, that this was the last night the two of them would ever have together in this life.

Chloe said goodbye more times than she could count, or stand. Left to wonder in stark terror which "I love you" would be the last. Or what happened in those terrible seconds, minutes, and weeks in which Max was a memory, and Chloe was somehow expected to carry on.

She thought back to the days that nearly destroyed her step-father, almost twenty five years ago. That was the first time her thoughts fully turned to what the imminent reality would be like. She understood now, down to the very fiber of her being, why he nearly gave up. How even the imminent arrival of Rachel's first child was only able to spur a few more months of existence from his ancient bones. But they were happier months at least, and Chloe could now appreciate the reserves of strength he must have been able to draw upon.

Even then, Chloe knew this was the last thing she wanted; for Max to pass before her.

 _I'm not as strong as you. I never was. Anything I had, I borrowed from you._

Part of her clung to the thought that perhaps they'd go together. Max would die, and then so would she, right on the spot. In the morning, they'd find her body slumped over her wife's, two old souls still holding hands.

 _I can't do this, baby. I can't...I don't even know how to go on without you. Please don't go...please don't..._

Max's eyes fluttered open. shining and unfocused. She squeezed her hand, and then turned to face her, looking more through than towards.

"Chloe." she whispered, in such a soft, tender voice.

"H-hi, baby." she croaked in return. Her heart leapt and sank all at once. One more chance to talk. One more chance to lose her forever.

"Mmmm. Was asleep. I had...had a dream." Max began. "About that night."

"Oh? Which one? Been a lot of them."

But Chloe already knew which. It was obvious to her.

"When we watched Arcadia Bay die. The one old. When I wasn't able to...do. What you asked. When." Max swallowed with difficulty, trembling, smiling sadly as she struggled to continue. "Won't be long now, sweetie. I can feel it. Won't be...have to. Tell you something. Did I tell you already?" She paused, as if searching the hazy corners of her mind before continuing. "That night. I had the picture. The one that was going to send me back. Stop myself from saving you."

"That...that's right." Chloe spoke soothingly, rubbing tender circles over the other woman's arm and palm. "There's nothing more to say about it. Just rest now."

"Wait. No. Won't have another chance. Please." Again, Max swallowed. "Just needed you to know." She closed her eyes, focusing, as if willing herself to hang on, to struggle against the inevitable end. "Couldn't go through with it, Che. Couldn't lose you."

Leaning in, Chloe said, "You didn't have to. Remember? You lost the picture. Wind took it away."

Shaking her head with slow, difficult effort, Max gave a wet laugh and said, "Let it. I let it. Perfect excuse. Hah...I can't even remember now, if I really understood what I was doing at the time. Too long since that night. But I figured it out, later. My fault. You wanted me to do the right thing, and...and I couldn't. I loved you too much. Even then. You always said I'm so strong, but I wasn't. I couldn't go on living without you. And...and they all died, Chloe. Paid the price, for it. Because of me."

Chloe sat in silence, as she weighed the fullness of Max's deathbed confession in her mind. She always knew her wife carried such horrible survivor's guilt, enough to make her run away, stay away for years. But not once did she ever suspect that the events of that night were anything more than mere happenstance. A twist of fate. Something completely and utterly out of either of their control.

And yet...

 _Makes so much sense now. I can't believe the thought never crossed my mind._

But what difference did it make, in this late hour?

None. Whatsoever.

Chloe leaned in, bringing their faces close together, as she whispered. "Doesn't matter, Max. It doesn't change a damn thing." She struggled to keep her composure, tears filling up her eyes, quietly spilling over her cheeks. "We paid our dues. More than enough. That damn town...it was dying. Always said the storm was the best thing that ever happened to it. I mean it! More than ever. So...so you just...do you think you need my forgiveness? You..you have it, Max! I absolve you, a thousand times over!"

She kissed Max's face, over and over, desperate to make her last minutes of life joyous. "I love you, Max Caulfield. I have always loved you. You are amazing, and perfect! You gave me life, and purpose. And your love, and the most beautiful child! You are my angel! And I will always be your partner in...in..."

Chloe couldn't finish the words as Max's eyes fluttered close, and she sank back fully into the bed, her lips pulling up into a beatific smile of contentment and tranquility.

"Time." Max breathed out, before falling back into slumber.

Chloe counted exactly eighty-six breaths before they stopped.

Fell to her knees, trembling. a low, keening wail of despair building in the back of her throat.

"I'm...I'm ready, baby. Just...just call me. Just call me with you. Anytime. Anytime now. Just take me with you. Please..."

She bowed her head, body wracked with heartbroken sobs as she repeated, "Please. Please. Puh-lu-hee-heese!"

She threw her face on top of Max's chest, overcome with grief. She begged for it to be over. For her life to end. As ready to die now as she was on that night, a long, winding, beautiful infinity ago.

All through the night, she pleaded.

But the morning came, and she found herself stubbornly alive to greet it.

The first rays of the sunlight shone on Max's pallid face, and Chloe understood. At long last.

This was the price.

Paid now, in full.

* * *

 _ **A/N:**_

:~(

Oh man.

That hurt.

I think this is why it's taken me so long to write Grande Dame, after my initial burst of creative impulse. Those month long pauses. Because I knew this scene was coming. Because it was the very first scene I ever plotted out in my head, the impetus to write the whole damn story in the first place. Just one plot seed, an idea of Max giving Chloe a deathbed confession, born out of guilt.

This is the end of Max's story. But Chloe still has one last chapter left.

Anyhow, as I was writing this one, I was also sad for all the "missed opportunities" that I felt were out there. That I could have done more, done better. Brought back various characters. But I realized I could probably write hundreds of thousands of words if I let myself...and the hard truth is that this story has been dragging for a while. Really, the technical climax took place in chapter 11. Everything else has just been a lot of extended denouement. In some ways, writing Grande Dame has been more personally affecting than any of my other works.

So the last one may be a bit on the big side. I will probably have it done before the end of the month.

Have a good weekend.

 **[3/18/16]:** Special Editor Credit goes to **GrumpyCat42** , who rightly called me out for not doing as tight as job as I should have on proof-reading. I really split a ton of infinitives and forgot to turn things into adverbs, just to name a few sins...sorry folks. I should have known better than to rush it. The only defense I can offer is that I really wasn't emotionally up for doing the multiple read throughs I normally employ, given how difficult it was emotionally for me to write the piece. Anyhow, they kindly pointed out a bunch of edits to me, about 95% of which I put into place, so big ups to them!


	18. Chapter 18

_**A/N:**_ Hey kids. I just wanna get my notes out of the way first. This is the last "regular" chapter of Grande Dame. There will be a final epilogue in a few days, probably early to mid next week, since my kids birthday is this weekend, and I'll get my final thoughts and thank yous out then. But for artistic reasons, I really wanted this piece to have a chance to stand on its own for a few days. I did my best to really proofread it this time, but this drained me even more than the last chapter did, so I wasn't up for reading through it more than a couple times. Hope you all enjoy it.

* * *

 **March 2085**

Chloe dutifully attended to the various plants and flowers blossoming in the greenhouse, as she'd done for...oh...as long as she could remember.

It was a tribute, a labor of love. An act of devotion to her soulmate, the woman she once called 'wife'. So many of the green things growing under the glass, in the warm and sultry air, were touched by Max's hands, cared for by her, nurtured and attended to. In following along that same path, Chloe couldn't help but feel that much closer to her. As if they were together once more; in spirit, if not physically.

It was all she had left of her, really, past the simple material possessions left in the wake of Max's passing. These moments in time that connected them both.

 _I wish...we'd spent more time doing this together. This was always Max's thing. But damnit, it should have been_ our _thing. Never appreciate someone until they're gone. Always think you have all the time in the world...until you don't._

"Time is the fire in which we all burn." a familiar voice called out, churring with playfulness as the woman calling out affected a gravelly, dramatic tone, . An old joke, something the two of them shared, something that only they alone would truly understand the meaning of.

Dropping the hand clippers onto the ground, Chloe froze, disbelieving. Chills warred up and down her spine with warm flushes, a torrent of emotion welling up inside her, threatening to burst.

Chloe whispered to herself, "Oh..oh God. Oh God, oh God! Shit, I've finally snapped. Startedhearing voices..."

"...or it's actually me, Che." Max said, pushing aside a few fronds as she emerged, as if from nowhere. She was wearing a pair of loose, blue drawstring Japanese rice-farmers pants, a white button down shirt, and a big floppy sunhat. She wasn't young, but there was definitely a youthful, supernatural aura about her, like someone who was in the world, but no longer a part of it.

Chloe swallowed, feeling terribly short of breath, as she turned to fully face the other woman; all the while, her mind screamed that what she was seeing was impossible. She drifted closer, as if in a daze, when Max held out beckoning arms.

"There's my partner in time..." she said, as Chloe enfolded her tightly against her chest.

Choking back a few sobs, clinging desperately to her, afraid that the slightest word or motion might dispel the moment, Chloe whimpered. "M-Max? How... _how?_ I saw you! You died. I was there when...and then the funeral. And..."

Max shushed her, stroking her hair, the back of her neck, kissing at her ear. "Che, please. Did you really think I was going to stay dead? After what happened, all those years ago? You honestly thought I didn't have one last trick up my sleeve? I mean, life owed me, don't you think? Owed us. It was all a matter of waiting until just the right moment, to play my hand ."

"Oh God, it's you. It's really you!" Chloe breathed in her scent, nuzzling at her neck as she ran her hands over her back. She knew it! She just knew it! One last bit of that old magic. That brush with the impossible that left them forever changed. Whatever higher power touched her, touched them both...it never forgot. It waited until now to show her the full measure of its benevolence and love. Its mercy and compassion.

It brought her wife back to her!

She laughed in delight. If only she were a few years - alright, decades - younger, she'd lift Max up and spin her around. She called out to the heavens. "Thank you! Thank you!"

Bringing a hand up to her face, Max gazed at her with adoring affection, and whispered. "We'll never be apart again, Chloe. I promise you. Just you and me forever. The way it was always meant to be."

Chloe laid a hand over her wife's. Took a breath, drinking in this miracle as deeply as was humanly possible. For lack of anything else to say, she leaned in, to press her lips together, eagerly kiss the woman in her arms...

...then woke up in her bed.

Alone.

Just as she had every day, for the past five months.

It wasn't even their old bedroom. That room was closed off to her now; too much pain lingered inside, too many memories. Like Rachel's old bedroom, it was a sealed-away vault of memory, a piece of the past preserved in amber. Ever since the passing, Chloe confined herself to the largest of the guest rooms. She found it calming, psychically sterile. It was all she could stand, while still barely being able to live in the house itself.

She choked back a piteous sob, rolling over to her side as her hand came up to cover her face. She wept, in the first golden rays of the rising sun, as she willed her aching heart to break on the spot so that she might not have to face yet another day alone.

It was going to be a bad day. Possibly the worst since the funeral.

Chloe went numbly through the motions of existence; bathing, dressing, shoving mouthful after agonizing mouthful of some flavorless oatmeal to keep her going.

For an hour she stood, staring out at the greenhouse through the large picture window in the living room, a burning anger roiling inside; an anger her aged frame could barely stand to contain. Oh, how she hated that place! How she longed to have it torn down to the ground, the glass panes smashed to fragments, the fragments ground to dust, the dust burned into nothingness. To rend the leaves of each and every plant into mulch, to throw the ceramic planters to the ground.

In her mind's eye, for one furious, terrible moment, she saw herself as the great tornado from nearly a century ago, the one that spared Chloe her life, taking instead the old Arcadia Bay and a chunk of its populace as compensation. Oh, how she'd teach that traitorous edifice! She'd lay the full bore of her anger upon it...

She turned away, gasping sharply. Trembling as she collapsed on the couch.

 _Max...Max loved that place! And she loved you._

Chloe dismayed at how close she'd come to letting her hurt and rage taint all of that. But she didn't know what else to do; how to cope, how to move forward.

And so she sat there, on the couch. A prisoner of a life she no longer particularly cared for. It wasn't in her to end it; if nothing else, she imagined that it would break Max's heart if she committed suicide.

Still, it tormented her, as she wondered what possible reason life had to continue prolonging her existence, while snuffing out so bright a flame as that of Max Caulfield's. She imagined that if their positions were reversed, Max would somehow find the strength to move past the grief, to accept the precious fragility of life, and make the most of whatever remaining years were gifted her. With grace and dignity.

But Chloe couldn't. Half a year on, and she felt as much trapped in an unending gray maze of futility as she did after that first week alone. Spent from the maelstrom of raw emotion, Chloe leaned back against the couch, and closed her eyes, letting sleep draw her down.

She wondered if she'd be lucky this time...enough that she would dream and never wake again.

* * *

A deep, dreamless sleep was shattered by an rapping on the front door.

It was rare for her to get unexpected visitors these days, a change from the first two or three months after Max's passing, when local well-wishers came to pay their personal respects and sympathies for her loss. Truth to be told, Chloe was touched, even taken aback. In a happier frame of mind, she might confess to being pleasantly surprised that she was still held in such high regard in the city, or remembered with such affection, let alone at all. She was the mayor literally a lifetime ago, and even her congressional service ended decades back. She assumed she was old enough now that people simply forgot.

And for the moment, being forgotten was what she wanted most.

The knocking became insistent, but Chloe was feeling stubborn.

 _They'll give up in a moment._

A minute passed, then another, before silence fell. Assuming she won this small battle, she rose up from the couch, and drifted aimlessly through the living room. That was when she heard a voice.

"Chloe! Are you in there? Damnit, you better not be ignoring me. Not unless you finally kicked the bucket yourself."

It was Victoria Chase.

Chloe sighed heavily. Though she came and went, in and out of their lives over the years, Victoria remained a constant friend to Max and herself; after the funeral, she did her best to try and offer comfort and support: two things Chloe was certain she had no desire for at the moment.

 _Damnit, Tori. If it were anyone else, I'd tell you to just go the fuck away..._

"I swear!" the other woman continued. "I'm pretty sure I have a granddaughter in the ABPD. She can hack through your security system and override the door control in a minute, and if I tell her why, she'll do it for me. So...you know, open up!"

Chloe decided to embrace the inevitable; it might present a few minutes of distraction. She couldn't figure out what else to do with herself. Opening the door, she shielded her eyes against the surprisingly bright early springtime sun. After a few seconds adjustment, she beheld Victoria, looking amazing as ever. Pushing ninety herself now, and not a silver hair out of place, not a wrinkle that didn't look like it hadn't asked first for permission before creasing her face. She held herself with a strong, straight bearing, putting most women twenty years her junior to shame.

 _Damn you, Vicky. Perfect, even now._

"Wow, you look like shit, Chlolo." Victoria declared matter-of-factly, gently pushing her way inside the house. Chloe didn't try to stop her, but neither did she give much reaction when the other woman kissed her affectionately on the temple. "Did you _not_ get my message yesterday? Said I was coming over to check on you...talk about a few things. And Jesus, not a moment too soon." She glanced around the house, as it stood silent, drab and dark. Almost all of the curtains were pulled closed, throwing into sharp relief the few beams of light that managed to slice through the greyness.

Chloe ran her hands briefly through her hair, somewhat dismayed at the greasy feel. It'd been three, maybe four days since she last washed.

Frowning slightly, she looked away, and in a peevish tone of voice said, "Sorry. Haven't...haven't had the time to check any of my Web devices."

Victoria snorted, and with a wry, playfully smile chided, "I think it's sweet, how you act like a ninety year old woman...from the year nineteen-ninety-seven. Je- _sus_ , who checks their external mobiles anymore?" She tapped herself between her eyes. "Get with the times, babe. I had a neural weblink installed last year. Now I just read my mail like it's a heads up display in my vision, thanks to the bionic lens implants. I literally surf the Web by blinking."

"'Surf the Web?' Yeah, now who sounds old? Spoiler alert: it's you." Chloe grumbled. In years past, she and Victoria absolutely loved to verbally spar, playing at being frenemies though the two came to deeply respect and care for each other long ago. But now? She just wasn't in the mood, and cut straight to the chase. "So why are the hell are you here?"

"You mean other than the fact it's been months and you're more cooped up and isolated than ever? And I've come by to check on you?" She stood there as Victoria's expression softened considerably, reaching out a lay a comforting hand on her shoulder. Chloe bowed her head, clenched her jaw. She knew Victoria meant well, but the presence of her wife's long time friend and business partner - the two co-owned Victoria's gallery, at least until Max's will granted her share back - stirred up too many painful emotions and aching memories. She wasn't usually such an introvert, but up to this point, shutting out the world was the only way she felt able to deal with it all.

"Im...fine. Don't need you to come around and check on me like I'm an invalid!" Chloe huffed out.

"Liar." Victoria poked. "You're..." she walked around the house, drifting from window to window and opening up the curtains. Sunlight flooded in, dispelling the surreal twilight ambiance of the living room. "...you're in pain. Agony. I understand, Chloe. I mean, maybe not in exactly the same way, but..." She stopped short and steepled her fingers together. A thoughtful look crossed her features as she blew out a breath.

"Alright. Guess I might as well cut right to the..." she smirked. "...Chase?" Quickly continuing before Chloe could complain about the old pun, she said, "Your wife. She and I were working together on one last show, you know? Her first in ten years. It was going to be all sorts of different plants from her greenhouse, presented in different mediums. Holograms, 3D replicator statues, old-school giclee prints...even a few ultraviolet and infrared..." She suddenly switched tracks, brightening up considerably as she said, "Oh my God, Chloe. Those pieces, those are the really inspired bits. Like everyone else in the world forgets that these blossoms are doing their best to attract animals that don't see the world the same way we do. There's all these fantastic metalayers to your run-of-the-mill flower..."

"Tori...that...that's nice, alright." Chloe interjected. Sighed hard as she hugged herself. "I know Max was really focused on her art, in the greenhouse. Didn't know that it was turning into a show...she didn't tell me."

"Oh. I mean, it was a surprise, I think. Even for you. One last, great huzzah. One final moment to bloom. The heart failure took her too soon, before she had a chance to complete it. But look, you - Chloe, I want _you_ to help me curate the show. A grand tribute to a wonderful artistic talent. I want you to put your spin on it. Show us the woman you loved, through your eyes. What her work meant, how it touched and inspired you."

Chloe backed away, her eyes widening in horror. She turned and leaned against the kitchen island for support, panic welling up inside her chest. One shaky breath turned into two, as she struggled to regain her composure. Shaking her head as quickly as she dare, Chloe replied, "N-no. You do it, Victoria. You...you're the artist. You knew that side of her, better than I ever did. Can't - I - I can't. Too many memories. Too many..."

She stopped, gazing at her reflection in the chrome of a nearby appliance. Struck silent, as she recalled a time, back in her past.

 _Just like David. Oh God...I'm just...I guess I really am my step-father's daughter, after all._

Part of her wanted that to be enough. To shake her out of the doldrums, just as she'd managed to get through to him in his time of despair, all those years ago. But it wasn't. Another voice, far louder, insisted...

 _It's not the same. It's not the same...Max and I! That was far more, far deeper. How do I_ ever _move on?"_

Victoria strode over, crossed her arms, leaned against the side of the fridge, and glared furiously. "God. Damnit. Chloe? You know what? I wish I was in _your_ pain right now. Do you know that?"

This immediately got Chloe's attention, as if stung by the surreality of her statement.

"Now what the hell is that supposed to mean?!"

"It means...You and Max." Victoria pushed herself off, and began to pace. "You and she had this rare and beautiful love. I mean people stay married, and people kinda-sorta stay in love. But the two of you? Soulmates. A lot of people get married to people they love, but almost no one _really_ gets to marry their true soulmate. I know I sure didn't. I mean fuck, I never got married. Period." She paused, and gesticulated with her hands for emphasis. "Oh sure, I had my fair share of lovers, people who came in and out of my life, and changed it in ways - some bad, but mostly for the better. And I had a gorgeous daughter, and she has three wonderful kids of her own, but I never experienced that love for the ages, the kind the two of you shared. And it's pretty obvious, in this late hour, none of that is in the cards for Victoria Chase." She walked over, towards one of the shelves, running fingertips over the faded wedding portrait of the four of them: Max, Chloe, Victoria and Kate. They were smiling and waving for the camera.

"I know it's easy for me to say this, not truly understanding it from your perspective, but if I were you, Chloe Price-Caulfield? I wouldn't be running away from everything that reminded me of that love. God, I'd be...terrible. I'd wrap myself up in it. Everything. Everything that reminded me of him, or her, whoever it was that I was blessed to share that connection with. I'd do anything and everything to remind myself of what it was like. Keep their memory burning bright and fresh in my mind."

Walking back towards her, Victoria concluded, "Probably a shitty thing to say to you, in this moment of pain. But you know me, I'm good at being shitty sometimes. Especially if I think it's for the right reasons."

Chloe felt the knot of emotions threatening to overwhelm her. Rising up like a lump in her throat, as she bowed her head. The sobs burst insistently out, quietly at first, like an ancient engine futilely trying to turn over. But in short order, she began to weep. Her voice was rough and vulnerable, as she groaned out her grief. Arms encircled her, kept her from collapsing into a heap on the floor.

"Oh God. Oh God! Tori...I don't know _how!_ I don't know how to make it stop hurting! I don't want to forget her! I never want that but...I don't know how to make the pain go away. There is this part of me, that is absolutely desperate to run away from here; this house, this city, anything and everything that reminds me of her!" She rubbing at her wet face, choking on her sobs.

"Max. Sorry...so sorry...!"

Victoria leaned in, and whispered. "Come with me. Right now. I mean, get yourself together, maybe clean up first, but then walk right out the door with me, okay? We'll go straight to the gallery, and get to work. You and I, we're going to bring her back, one last time. A tribute to her life. Your life with her. Together. I mean shit, if I have to do it all myself, I will, but you and I both know damn well that if you don't take this opportunity, you're going to regret it. You, turning away from the vital spark, the essence that made her _her?_ " She shook her head. "No. I don't think you're in that much pain. Don't focus on how much you think your life is empty without her now; only on how much she filled it with joy. For sixty-plus-whatever-fucking years."

Chloe struggled to compose herself. She grabbed a fistful of tissues from the dispenser on the counter, wiped her eyes, and blew her nose. Then glanced warily at the door, feeling the weight of the moment press down upon her shoulders. She could let Victoria walk out and, by herself, tell the world the last story of an amazing, remarkable woman, in a fashion that was lacking in critical depth. She'd do her best, but there would always be something missing.

Or Chloe could turn and face the pain. Dive towards everything she'd been running away from, and pray that somewhere, in the maelstrom, she found at least some small measure of salvation.

 _This action will have consequences._

She must have lost track of how long she'd been staring, because Victoria started waving a hand in front of her face.

"Alzheimer's starting to kick in, babe? You know, they have a cure for that now. Tastes like chocolate mint."

"Shut up." Chloe said, with a clipped laugh. "I'm going to go upstairs. Take a quick shower. Maybe get dressed. I don't promise to enjoy any of what we're about to do."

Victoria smirked. "Making art is a plum pudding of suffering with little raisiny bits of exquisite joy. I think you've got the suffering part down. So yeah, you go and get clean. I'll still be down here waiting for you. Riffling through your silverware, and stealing your best medical marijuana from the medicine cabinet."

Chloe extended a single, bony middle finger into the air as she make her way up the stairs.

 _We'll always be together, Max. I just have to learn what that means without your physical presence._

* * *

 **January 2086**

" _Naana_? There's someone here who'd like to meet you."

Chloe leaned casually on her beloved cane, fingers drumming against the crystal skull capping the black lacquered length of ironwood. Admiring her reflection in the mirror, dressed in a slate gray suit, her short hair dyed a rich, vibrant blue, she thought she cut a rather imposing figure. A mighty matriarch, tested by life's slings and arrows, and while initially bloodied, coming away from the experience unbowed.

Victoria turned out to be infuriatingly correct, per the norm. Pouring through the vast volume of material Max left behind in her final years turned out to be exactly the sort of therapy Chloe needed. Being able to share all of those moments in time with Victoria, and in her own way, re-live them, helped her work through her grief. Gave her the strength to turn all of that pain and anger into a quiet, sublime joy. She was able to bring her own unique perspective to Max's work, and above all else, found it was rather fun, as Victoria recorded a whole slew of segments, turning her into a 'virtual curator': holographic explanations presenting each piece in the gallery as the audience passed through. The show was great success, and for one shining night at the opening, it was as if she and Max were rejoined in spirit, through the nexus of Victoria's gallery.

And now, saved from her grief as she once saved her step-father from his, she was now being introduced to her great-grandson. Her eldest grandchild Kamala was the - well - Chloe wasn't quite sure how to describe it. Apparently the young woman was in a polyamorous lesbian triad; the sort of thing that was unusual and challenging to the social norm back at the start of the century, but now the sort of arrangement people were less likely to react negatively to. There was some sort of technique involved that combined all three of their DNA into one zygote, and though Kamala contributed her genes, she didn't carry the child to term, that much Chloe was certain.

She just couldn't remember which of her grandaughter's wives had.

But Svetlana and Kimber were both absolutely wonderful women and while Chloe didn't pretend to understand how their relationship managed to work, she was always pleased to see how happy they made each other.

 _Hah! If nothing else, I love that you take after me in your preferences, kiddo. I guess it must have skipped a generation._

Chloe gratefully exchanged her cane for the newborn infant, smiling brightly to herself as she cradled him in the crook of her arm. It never failed to amaze her how much her parenting instincts came back to her, after all these years. A warm rush of memories flooded her mind, as she recalled those wonderful, terrifying first months after Rachel was born, and what seemed like a never-ending struggle to adapt to the new reality of parenthood.

She looked up and over, appraising Kamala; a young woman of twenty five, she was possessed of striking good-looks, having received the best attributes of both her father and mother. Her caramel colored skin stood out in contrast to the stark near-white platinum blonde of her hair, cut into a soft mohawk, which she parted to one side. Glowing, animated tattoos of various Hindu gods and goddesses crawled their way up and down her arms, befitting her image and status as an up-and-coming world music artist.

Cooing at and cradling the infant in her arms, Chloe murmured, "Seems like only yesterday your mother was putting _you_ in my arms, Kammy. Just like this." She laughed lightly, bouncing the baby around, as the child did his best to ignore what was happening and instead continue napping. "I only wish Max was still with us. She would have loved to meet this little man. Hmm. So what's his name, then?"

Kamala reached over, grinning to herself as she tickled her son underneath his chin. She then looked up and said, "William. I know it's wick old and toto-no fashion, but it was 'lana's papa's name. And I seem to remember, _Naana_ , that it was your father's as well."

Memories of William Price popped into Chloe's mind, bright as they were out-of-focus. Such a vital, important character in the narrative that was her life, and yet, after so long, he was almost a mythic figure to her. Someone she remembered more through the repetition of telling his life's story, less about the actual experiences she shared with him. She took a deep breath, letting wave after wave of nostalgia wash through her, before softly declaring. "It's a good name. Hell, an excellent name. Oh God, he would have - just - absolutely loved this baby. And you."

"He would have loved me too, I hope!" another voice called out. Rachel's, as she and her husband walked in through the front door. They quickly crossed the distance into the living room, and Chloe gave each of them a close albeit one-armed hug.

"Hey Daddy." Rachel said

"Hey kitten." Chloe murmured in return, and then smirked towards her son-in-law. "Mr. Senator. Still can't get you back onto the West Coast, it seems." she teased. Like her, Sandeep had taken a break from politics, only to be pulled back in after a decade. Last year, he won his election to become the first Indian-American US Senator in Massachusetts history.

He laughed low in return, pausing to kiss his daughter on the forehead in greeting, before answering, "Everyone knows it belongs to you. If I start running in Oregon, or even Washington, everyone will accuse me of being part of a political dynasty."

"Ugh. That was a long time ago, Sandi. I'm sure more people have heard of and remember you than they'll ever recall me."

He pushed his glasses - still an unneeded affectation - further up the bridge of his nose and clicked his tongue. "You might be surprised, Dad. You might be hella surprised."

Chloe laughed. "What? Hella? You're not allowed to say that. Especially not at your age."

He grinned toothily. "Sure, why not? It's gotten toto popular again, y'know?"

"Dada, don't say toto either. It's embarrassing." Kamala teased.

Chloe laughed brightly, and then turned to the gathered members of her family. "Well, let me just say how happy I am to be here today, because I've gotten to say hello to my favorite granddaughter's precious boy. Max would've...ah." She shook her head lightly. "If you think she doted on you Kammy, that's nothing compared to what she would've done to little William here." Pausing, she pivoted her head towards Rachel and added, "That's your special prerogative, by the way. Best part of being a grandparent, you can spoil the absolute hell out of the kid, and then dump them back off on the parents before you have to deal with the consequences."

" _Naana!"_ Kamala lovingly chided. "That's terrible."

"Ohhhhh...it's true." Rachel responded. She then walked over, wrapped an arm around her daughter's shoulders and trilled, "And you're about to find out that shit does indeed run downhill, _lalaa_."

Before anyone else could speak, William woke with a fuss.

"Oh, I know that cry." Rachel said.

"Yup. Hungry baby time. You never, ever forget what it sounds like." Chloe added. "Hey, I'm curious, who nurses him?"

Kamala smiled. "We all do, all three of us. We take turns."

"Huh. I'd love to find out how that works sometime, since only one of you carried him."

"It works well! And it's not a difficult thing to pull off, not these days. I think it's my turn actually, that'll make Kimber happy." With that, she gently took her child back, returning the cane to Chloe in the process. Rachel gave her husband a meaningful look, and said, "Sweetie? Why don't you and Daddy go and have a talk...about that thing?"

Chloe quirked a single brow upward.

 _Hmmmm...now what's that supposed to mean?_

"Oh? Sure. Do you mind, Dad? Got someplace quiet we can talk?"

"Study works. This...sounds like it might be a 'study' kind of issue."

The two of them made their way up to Chloe's private office. She'd recently gone through the monumental effort of dusting decades worth of material off, throwing away what was no longer needed while prettying up and displaying some of the favorite pieces she'd collected over the years. The various plaques, achievements and honors, diplomatic gifts, and favored pictures, a small tribute to a decades long career. The room itself held a large desk, along with a comfy chair that looked suspiciously like one that belonged to a certain Blackwell principal from seventy years ago. There were very few bookshelves; with home replicators able to print anything and everything on demand and just as easily recycle the material back, there was little need to devote the space to holding physical books, except for pure sentimental value.

"Get you anything, Sandi? I've got juice, booze. Wine, which is just boozy juice. The drink replicator makes an okay coffee, but not as good as it used to. Know why? I swear, it's because the kitchen and the office mesh networks are angry at each other for some reason. Problem with living in the future, damn house and appliances are getting too smart for their own good."

Sandi grinned, "Thanks, but I'm good. I know you hate to beat around the bush, so I suppose I should jump into it then, yeah?"

"It'd be nice. At my age, I could drop dead at any moment." she joked. Mostly.

He took a deep breath, clasped his hands together, and then asked, "Right. So how much have you been keeping up with the new efforts to push through the Thirtieth Amendment to the Constitution?"

Chloe pulled out a blue bottle from the mini-fridge, a Japanese soda she was fond of. She pushed down the marble that acted like a cap, and then took a swig. After swallowing, she answered, "Not much. I knew it was languishing for years, but..." she waved the bottle around dismissively. "I just don't keep up with the news like I used to anymore, kiddo. Although..." she took another pull, and then continued. "...feel sort of embarrassed. That kind of thing used to be near and dear to my heart."

Near the end of her Congressional career, Chloe was one of the more prominent leaders of a push to publicly fund all elections, completely pushing private money out of the process in an effort to aggressively curtail the remnants of institutional corruption in the political system. That sort of thing required a Constitutional amendment, never an easy feat. The vote was close, a hard fought battle, and there were days during that time she feared for her own safety and that of her family, given how high emotions were running. In the end, she, and so many of the others who worked alongside her, managed to achieve what was for her a lifetime dream.

"Yes, well...as you know, the Democrats got a slammed for a bit, not long after you resigned. Big part of the reason why they lost your seat. There was something of a conservative backlash, and the Federalist-Eagle party made some significant gains for a while. Held on to the Senate for almost a decade. But we've managed to tough it out, and now the party leaders are convinced the wind is gathering quickly at our backs again. We're pretty sure building up the numbers we need in the House will be relatively easy, but the Senate is going to be much harder. So we're pulling out all the stops, trying to recruit as many ideal candidates as we can, to take as many seats as possible. It just so happens that James Detweiller isn't going to seek re-election. He won't be officially announcing that until tomorrow, though."

"Really? Huh. Oh well. Didn't vote for the guy, but he seemed okay. Met him a couple of times at some things. We didn't agree on everything, but for a Freegle, he wasn't much of an asshole. I guess he did okay by Oregon. Of course, even the rural areas aren't as crazy-go-nuts as they used to be. So who the hell are you trying to convince to run for his seat?"

Sandeep blinked. "Well...you. I should think that would be obvious."

Chloe made a show of leaning hard against her cane as she continued to drink her soda. She narrowed her eyes and murmured, "Gotta be fucking kidding. Me? When I meet most kids in this community these days, they say, 'Wow! I think I read about you in history class...but I thought you were dead.' Pretty sure the world moved on and forgot about little me a long while back."

Sandeep steepled his fingers together for a moment, "Ohhhh...well. You probably wouldn't get far running for President, but Senator of Oregon? In this state, your name is gold! Chloe, people remember you. Fondly, not to point too fine a point on it. We need as many seats as we can get, and after all the quants in the party ran their billions of computer simulations, they're told us that you're far and away the most likely person to win that Senate seat. Furthermore, they're convinced that if we get you in there, the entire effort to push through the amendment goes from a forty-nine percent chance of success to sixty-five.

"Whaaat?" Chloe said in disbelief. "Those guys! They aren't oracles. They don't know everything...still..." she mused. "They _are_ pretty good. But...but why? I don't get that part. The whole my adding to the success bit."

"Really? I mean, can't you see? It's not just about getting people in there who can vote in one particular way, at one particular time, and be done with it. Party discipline isn't a huge problem right now. But people still remember your role in getting the previous amendment passed..."

"That was a group effort," Chloe interrupted. "I know people like to lionize, but don't act like I was the lynchpin. Sally Rippington, and uh, Liz Warren's grandkid, whatsisface. They did a lot more of the heavy lifting than me..."

"Maybe, but they're not around anymore. And you remind people of the last time amending the Constitution actually happened. How that felt, what it was like. Of going out there and getting the rest of the politicians together to doing something major. You're - ah - an icon, I suppose. Someone the party can rally around on this issue."

Chloe sighed heavily. At first blush, she was pretty sure the answer should be no; she wasn't certain she had the energy to go through with this, and God knows she paid her dues a long time ago. She was more than content to fade off into the distance, go peaceably into that good night.

And then something occurred to her.

She turned and looked up at the oversized giclee print hanging on the wall; a family portrait that Max took of the three of them, right after Rachel was born. She was smiling radiantly, and from this angle, it almost looked like she was staring down at her, knowingly.

"Is this the reason then, babe?" Chloe whispered to herself. "Why I'm still here, why you haven't called me back to be with you? Am I supposed to stick around for one last act?"

"Sorry, didn't catch that?" Sandeep asked.

Shaking her head, Chloe answered, "Nothing. Nothing at all." She cracked a roguish grin and smirked up at the portrait, shaking her head. "This - ah - the amendment. Still the same as the last draft, the one from ten years ago? Doing away with the Electoral College?"

"For starters, yes."

"Shit, I can just imagine all the conservative legal scholars freaking out over that one. Even _I'm_ not totally on board with the notion anymore. And standardizing electronic vote-by-mail at the Federal level? None-of-the-above with instant runoff for elections, and nationwide ballot initiatives?"

"Good memory." Sandeep laughed.

"Yeah...well. Pretty comprehensive basket of goodies there. Good luck trying to get all _that_ shit passed." she grumbled.

"We figure if we shoot high, then we have things to give away during the bargaining process."

Chloe nodded sagely, "Yeah. Yeah, makes sense. That old game. Huh." She closed her eyes in consideration. Then opened them...

"Fuck it. Fine. Yes. The answer is yes. But understand, Sandeep. I am an old woman. Hella old." She smirked at this. "I'll give you and the party a single term. And I certainly can't promise you I won't up and die on you in the middle of it."

"Oh Dad, you're not ol-" he paused. "Okay. A single term."

"Right. Wow. Shit, I can't believe I'm seriously letting you talk me into running for office one last time. Jesus, call me Henry the Fifth." As she said this, she began to twirl her cane around like a sword.

"Great! Great. Wow, I'm really excited by this! With you on board, I feel like we've actually got a chance!"

Chloe held out her arm, happy that her son-in-law caught the notion, and threaded his own through it. "Sandi...with you on the East Coast, and me on the West, we'll smash those bastards in the middle between us. Or something. Gonna be fun to try, at any rate. Now, let's get back downstairs and figure out what we're gonna do for lunch."

* * *

 **November 2092**

"And now, I'd like to give the podium over to the woman so graciously passing the torch...Oregon's proud junior Senator these past few years. Ladies and gentleman...Chloe Price-Caulfield!"

Chloe took a deep, cleansing breath. Here she was, at the end of the crazy scheme her son-in-law put her up to, more than six and a half years earlier. Part of her was disappointed; she'd forgotten how much she missed the old job, and how damn good at it she was. Plus, the was the fact that she was now old enough to get away with behaving in an occasionally eccentric fashion. She had to admit, she always got a thrill when she could shoot down the occasional 'whippersnapper' with a glare, or by brandishing her cane in a vaguely menacing fashion.

But there was a much larger part of her that was relieved beyond measure to see everything done, at long last. The energy and the demands, the late nights and stress took their toll, and as increasingly active as senior citizens were becoming thanks to modern medicine, there was no way she could go on with politics any longer, even if she wanted to; she'd already developed health issues, and had a few scares lately. The softly insistent pain in her chest was reminder enough of that.

 _Damn heartburn. God, too many bad meals the past few days._

But it was Election Night now, and after she gave the thousands of people assembled out there one last speech, there'd be little else she'd have to do during the lame duck portion of the session, except enjoy this final capstone to her life. To her career and her achievements. In many ways, she imagined her life would be far less eventful from this point on.

 _You know what? That suits me damn fine. I've had plenty of 'eventful' to last me three lifetimes. Boring would be okay._

She took another deep breath, attributing the growing difficulty to calm her nerves to the electricity of the moment, the excitement in the air. And why not? The one thing she set out to do for this entire term, and she managed to pull it off.

 _Had help, of course. A lot of help, but damn. It's nice to come away with a win._

Walking out onto the stage, she smiled brightly, waving towards the crowd, letting the roar of adulation wash over her. Certainly, she'd seen crowds as large as this before. Spoken before them, or close enough. But there was something about it now that seemed terribly overwhelming, almost crushingly so. It wasn't a sensation she found altogether pleasant, but was still awed by. Almost like watching a giant tidal wave about to smash into the shore; it would consume her, but damn if it wasn't a hell of a sight to behold in those last few seconds.

She stuck out a hand to the man making her introduction, the one who ran for, and won, the seat she would be vacating: Arthur Prescott-Chisholm. A somewhat distant relation of a particular family who once held sway in her beloved city of Arcadia Bay.

He was - what was it now? Kristen's great-grandson? Yes, that was it. Young, full of life. Oozing with charisma, but a kind he came honestly by. Her reminded her a bit of Gary Trudeau, not that many were left alive who remembered that name. When Arthur came to her several months ago, seeking her blessing before announcing his intention to run, she was initially suspicious..

 _Embarrassing, how rude I was, kinda, to the boy during our first meeting._

She was set in her ways though; for much of her life, Prescott, in her mind, meant hypocrisy. Exploitation. Even death. Once upon a time, Arthur's great-granduncle nearly killed her, and _did_ kill someone who meant the world to her. Part of her was still bitter, clinging to the hurt caused by those wrongs of the past. But Chloe soon came to learn how unfair it was to tar him for the sins of his fathers. She spent time reading over his achievements, his philanthropic work. Cut off from most of the Prescott fortune, he came from a strictly middle class vocational background, and worked his way up. Never forgetting his roots, nor where he came from. He was a People's Champion, and proudly wore the mantel.

When Chloe realized how much he reminded her of herself at that age, she immediately called him back and told him that she'd be more than happy to give him a full-throated public endorsement of his campaign.

And now, here she was, passing on the torch.

 _Couldn't have written a better ending to all of this myself._

She held out a hand to him. He eschew it, choosing to warmly embrace her instead.

"The floor is yours, Senator." he murmured.

"Thank you kindly, Senator-Elect." she replied. They both shared a knowing smile, as she made her way to the podium. She leaned on her cane for support as she walked, much more needful of it than in years past.

Ignoring the nagging, burning ache in her sternum, she turned and faced the masses...

 _Oh God. So many of them out there tonight. Why did I never notice that sort of thing before?_

"Well. Let me start by saying I'm happy you like my replacement. We had quite the vote turnout tonight, didn't we? But I'm proud to be leaving you in such accomplished hands. So before I begin, let me offer my own congratulations to you tonight, Senator Prescott-Chisholm."

 _Man. That sounds weird. But you know what, weird is good. How many more chances for weird am I gonna get in this life?_

Leaning against the podium, she continued, "I'm not one for long speeches. Never was before, especially not at my age. You...you all know the joke by now." After pausing the let the audience have a laugh, she went on. "I'm happy to see the future is in good hands. Your future. Our future. In the hands of someone who will protect the very real gains that we've just, as of last week, finally made. Someone who will build upon and protect them!"

Another loud, raucous cheer burst out. It was a good thirty seconds before she could continue.

"As you all know, my son-in-law...oh...hey...there is hey. Hi Sandi." Another laugh, as she waved towards Sandeep, waiting in the sidelines backstage with his family. "That boy, he comes to me with this harebrained scheme he and the rest of the party cooked up. Sure you know it by now, a little thing called the Thirtieth Amendment. But you all know me, I love hairbrained,so..."

She paused for a moment, shook her head, and then started again, her voice far less light and airy.

"No. I'm sorry. Can't make light of this. Forgive me. This is a true sea change for our great country. More than three hundred years since our nation was founded, we have made gains and improvements that have been a long time coming. They should have been in place decades earlier, but are definitely better late than never. We've taken the faith in the system that was painfully rebuilt over the years, and done right by it. I'm happy to say that America will now have a world class system that ensures that each and every citizen over the age of eighteen will be able to submit their vote by mail or e-mail. And that Americans will have a stronger voice in exactly who it is they want to elect, as opposed to merely picking the lesser of two evils. And finally, that the people of our nation will have the power to bring up ballot petitions at the federal level, granting them a powerful check against the potential for abuse and corruption in our political class. Something that we need to remain forever vigilant of."

They didn't get everything they wanted; some of the measures were watered down. The Electoral College would still remain, for all its strengths and weaknesses. But they got enough to call it a win. That was good enough for her.

"And we...we..."

It was getting harder to breath. Like a vice gripping her midsection.

"Oh...p-pardon me." she gasped. "All the excitement..."

Murmurs began to ripple back and forth across the audience.

Chloe tried to find more words, but they wouldn't come. The talent she'd spent the majority of her life cultivating suddenly failed her. Trembling, her hands clammy, her heartbeat unsteady, she gazed out with increasingly blurry vision, until she caught sight of someone familiar in the audience. She was right up at the front: a young teenage girl, with short auburn hair. Dressed in a grey hoodie and pink t-shirt that were almost eighty years out of fashion.

"M-max?" she whispered.

The girl gave a loving smile, just for her.

Chloe thought to walk over to the front of the stage for a better look, but her body failed her after the first few steps away from the podium.

The floor rushed up to meet her. Everything began to slow down.

The darkness claimed her, quicker than she thought possible.

* * *

Hearing was the first sense to return to her. There was a high pitched whine, almost like the sound of a choir singing, off in the distance. Chloe was possessed of the definite sense that she was flying somehow, or floating, at any rate. She opened her eyes, and all she could see was white.

Someone was calling out to her.

"...d?"

She narrowed her eyes, squinting. She could start picking out details. There was someone, dressed in a white suit.

The choir began to sound less ethereal, more mechanical.

"..ad?"

"M-max?" she called out. "Is...that you?"

It was easier to breathe now. She could feel something, stretched across her face, part of which was inserted into her nose.

"Dad? Daddy?"

Suddenly, the world resolved itself in short order. She was lying on her back, looking up at the curved ceiling of a flying ambulance. Not the first time she'd been in one of these things, and she laughed at the realization.

 _Angels...ducted thrust fans. Not much difference, huh? Some heavenly choir that turned out to be._

Rachel was by her side, her face a mess from crying. A fresh wave of tears flooded from her eyes, as she reached down to tightly grip her hand.

"Oh...oh _thank God_. I was...we...so worried."

Chloe glanced around, and then spoke, her voice tight and raspy.

"Ambulance?"

Rachel nodded.

"Where?"

She paused, then answered, "Seattle. They're flying you to the big hospital there. But...but you're gonna be alright. I promise. Everything's gonna be fine. Ohm-Gee, I was so fucking worried. I think I almost passed out myself when you went down!"

Chloe took a deep breath, lungs greedily gulping down the extra oxygen the tube around her face was providing. "Heart attack?" she asked.

Rachel nodded again. "Yeah. It...it was pretty bad. But there were already medic teams on site, and they jumped all over it. Still...Doctor says that if it weren't for the synthcardium strands they implanted in your heart last year, you'd have probably died on the spot."

"Oh."

Chloe tried to push away the immediate feeling of disappointment that the news elicited. Not that she had a death wish, but at the same time, she half-cursed the double-edged sword of modern technology.

She then chuckled. "Damn shame..."

Rachel looked horrified. "Daddy. How can you say that?" she demanded.

"Oh...oh baby-child. No...I was just thinking, mostly..." she reached over, patting her daughters face. "Woulda been hella cool. You know? Up and dying in front of millions of people via live webcast. At a moment like that?" She started to laugh louder, despite how much it hurt. "Yeah. Awesome. Like a boss."

Rachel shook her head, trying her best to keep from smiling, despite herself. She choked back a sob. "Please don't...you really almost died, you know?"

"Princess, let me tell you something: when you get to be my age...laughing about your brushes with death is one of the few true pleasures you have left in life."

She took another breath and smiled, before passing out again. But only into sleep.

This time.

* * *

 **April 2094**

Chloe decided that she was going to make today a good one.

Not that her life was particularly unpleasant in the here and now, but she'd felt a curious sense of let-down since last month, after her one-hundredth birthday. The celebration itself was a marvelous thing, of course; all of her family came out visit. She initially intended to make it a small, private affair, but a few over-enthusiastic and well-intentioned individuals in town practically begged her to let them hold some sort of public celebration for one of the city's most illustrious citizens.

So she compromised: a private party for her and her loved ones the day before, a public one on the actual day of. As personally grumpy as the notion initially made her, by the end of it, she was moved to tears. They gave her the key to the city, and the Blackwell valedictorian for this school year made a lovely speech. Chloe quickly realized that as embarrassing as she might have found the fuss they made over her, this was as much about the city taking time to celebrate its history and come together as a community as it was about her, personally.

And then it was over, and everyone went back to their normal lives.

Chloe wasn't sure what to do with herself afterwards; weeks went by and her life felt like someone staying overlong at the party, well after the host politely made it clear that maybe it was time for everyone to leave.

Eventually, she came to the conclusion that it was best to simply take everything day by day; treat each morning as if it were her last. And so, with that notion in mind, she was going to make today a good one.

Slowly working her way out of bed, it struck her that she was already ahead of the curve; her usual assortment of aches and pains were diminished from their usual levels.

 _Huh. Guess that damn doctor was right. It_ was _time to get a new mattress!_

She decided to forgo her daily shower, instead opting for a long and rather luxurious bath. And why not? Where was she going? What was the rush? People were so desperate to wring as much utility from every second of the day. She wondered that it took her until she hit triple-digits to realize that she had all the time in the world, to waste as she saw fit. What was the point of trying to hang onto quantity, when that could dry up at a moment's notice? Best to focus on the quality.

It was subtly and profoundly liberating.

She continued to embrace that mindset as she walked into her kitchen. Now was about the time that she usually had a long and heated debate with her food replicator about what she was and wasn't supposed to eat these days, especially at breakfast. No matter how much she pleaded, cajoled or threatened, the smarmy thing always insisted on serving her something that was almost but not quite like oatmeal. Bland and unsatisfying.

 _Well, fuck that noise._

As she passed through the kitchen, the machine called out to her, in a terrible approximation of a British cut-glass accent. "Good morning, Madam! I trust you've slept well? Shall we have at it, per our usual routine, or will you simply accept the well-balanced and highly nutritious offering that I've slaved over? Or perhaps you'd like to hear the latest news and weather updates first, before our morning duel, hmm? Skies looks sunny today, but there's apparently a large front coming in for the eveni-"

"Oh...God. Fuck you! Seriously, just fuck you. I know my daughter meant well when she got you for me, but...ugh. Anyhow, I've realized that as long as I never eat any of my meals in this house ever again, you can't slowly kill me with whatever-the-hell shit you call food.

"Madam!" it cried out indignantly. "If you'd kindly allow me to remind you about the many, _many_ benefits the Soylent Eight line of nutritional products has to offer..."

"No!" she softly roared, grabbing her cane and closing the door indignantly behind her, as she fled out into the bright sunshine.

 _Oh. Wow. Well this is an awesome day._

The constant rains of the past two weeks recently gave way to clearer skies, and the budding branches from the start of the month were now bursting forth with color. The strand of weeping cherries that Max and she planted eighteen years ago were vibrantly pink and she slowly made her way over, taking the time to examine their petals and enjoy the scent.

 _Huh. Maybe I ought to think about opening the greenhouse back up. Start growing a few things in there again._

The loud, insistent growling of her stomach reminded her that despite a moral victory against the tyranny of a balanced breakfast, she still needed something to eat.

She smiled impishly to herself, making her way over to the aircar.

"I know just the place..."

* * *

"Wow. Hey, Senator! Can't remember the last time I saw you in here. Must be almost a year now, right?"

Janine was a sweet girl - girl, by Chloe's definition, being thirty-two, in this case - who reminded her of a bubblier version of her mother, Joyce. More and more food service establishments these days were switching to automated waiters, but as a historically protected landmark, the Two Whales Diner was committed to preserving the authentic dining experience of the late-Twentieth and early-Twenty-First century. It was an easy enough thing for the management to do, given that the diner now operated as a non-profit funded not only through food sales, but also several generous grants, and more than a few donations from Chloe herself.

Which is, of course, why they insisted on never letting her pay for her food.

"Hmmm. First off, I'm not a Senator anymore..." she smirked sweetly. "And second...God. A year. Really? Too long. Too damn long. Alright, well I don't need to see a menu Jan. You know what I want. Just like Mom used to make."

"Okay! Coming right up. Glad to see you coming 'round again!"

Two waffles, two eggs sunny side up, two strips of bacon. Coffee, black with sugar. Plenty of butter. She insisted on at least paying for a tiny container of actual maple syrup, the kind made from real trees. Most of it was lab replicated now, but it just wasn't as good as the stuff the few struggling artisanal sugar shacks still managed to put out, despite the collapse of the traditional industry.

Chloe gazed down on her sumptuous feast, and breathed out, "Man, I am hungry like the wolf." She suddenly glanced up, realizing that this was the exact same booth, and she was sitting in precisely the same spot when she said those words over eighty years ago. The day Max blew her mind with an incredible demonstration of her power.

She shook her head and smiled to herself, as she proceeded to scarf her food down, eating with gusto. By the end of it, her belly protested, no longer used to such rich food, but Chloe sighed contently all the same as she pat her stomach.

 _Gonna pay for that later. But damn, it was good. Hella worth it._

She lingered casually for the next three hours, chatting first with Janine, and then a few of the random diners passing in and out: townsfolk, who greeted her warmly, peppering her with questions about 'the old days' of the small fishing town; tourists, a few of whom asked for her autograph; students from Blackwell, who enjoyed the diner because it was 'tique', which Chloe guessed was the new word for 'retro'.

She had a marvelous time, playing the role of a piece of living history, and she was smiling wide when she finally excused herself so she could move on with the rest of her day.

Chloe mused to herself, reflecting on the morning.

 _I could do this. This could be my thing. Just go and eat at the Two Whales every day, and talk to the people as they come in and out...hmm. Maybe not_ every _day. Need to make it a little special. Once a week? Oh! I could shake it up, make the day random, keep people guessing. On the other hand...folks like consistency. Hmmmm._

She wandered through town, wending her way in and out of the various shops, browsing mostly, but occasionally picking up a few small purchases. She talked the ear off of one patient salesman at the cannabis boutique, with her various complaints about the quality and consistency of the products these days, before picking up a few of the new dermal patches that were apparently all the rage.

Frank's pet shop was still there, though Frank himself was long gone. She could not say the same about Victoria's gallery. The Venerable Lady Chase - as Chloe often teasingly referred to her - died three years ago; the rumor was that it was from a heart attack while bedding one or possibly two paramours at once.

 _Ha ha! That was style, Victoria. That was a hell of a way to bite it._

Neither Miranda nor her children shared their mother's passion for art, and sold the gallery. The good news was that it was purchased by Blackwell as a space to showcase aspiring young talent, and to give the students a chance to learn more about the business aspects of the field, as well.

 _I should have done this a long time ago. Man, what a nice city this is! What a great place. Why did it take me so long to slow down and take another long look?_

There was a mental 'ringing' inside her head; Chloe finally took the plunge and got her own neural interface to the Web not long after she became a Senator, though she mostly kept it disabled except for phone calls. Blinking three times, she accepted the call coming through from her daughter.

"Dad!"

"Hey kitten. How are you? Having a good day, today?"

"What? Oh, I'm fine but...your kitchen called me up this morning and told me you were really rude to it. Wattyeff?"

"That's true. I was. But in my defense, Rachel, my kitchen is an asshole! It could really learn a lot from the bedroom. 'Cause the bedroom is cool, you know? The TV always knows exactly what I'm in the mood to watch, and now that I have the new metamaterial mattress, it can figure out exactly what I need, hard or soft, cold or hot. Man, I had an awesome night's sleep last night."

"That's not the point. You know Doctor Kurtz gave you a toto strict diet to follow. That replicator only has one job to do and...honestly? I think you hurt it's feelings." Rachel chided.

"What? Oh Jesus fuck, sweetie. These 'virtual intelligences' are a clever trick, but it's not like they're real people." She snorted, and then continued, " But yeah, fine, if the replicator wants to be my bestie, it can start making waffles like the kind I can get at the Two Whales. You know, I'd program that in myself, but _some_ child of mine locked me out from those settings."

"Daddy...I'm just trying to keep you healthy. You had a bad scare a couple years ago, but you could have a lot of good years ahead of you. But you have to take better..."

Chloe peevishly interrupted, but still maintained a gentleness in her tone of voice, "I've already had a lot of good years, Rache. More than my fair share...more than I deserve."

"...what's that supposed to mean?"

Chloe stopped short. She turned around in a slow circle, gazing at the houses, and the shops. The streets, the traffic lights. The schools and the sidewalks. Everything still looked so new to her, even now.

Everything _was_ new. Because of her.

Because of Max. Because of them. And her powers.

And the cost that Time Itself demanded, in order to prolong her life.

They'd never told the story to anyone else. Not even Rachel. It didn't even occur to them in all those years to say anything. It was their impossible secret, something that was meant just for the two of them.

"...Dad?"

Maybe it was time. She didn't have much of that left, and when she was gone, no one would remember. Rachel would call her crazy, but so what? Her daughter didn't have to believe, but it would be nice if it became a mad little tale, passed down from generation to generation.

"N-nothing. Nothing, honey. But look, can you just take me at my word when I tell you that I'm happy? Right this minute...I'm pretty happy. I ate an awesome breakfast, I'm having a pleasant walk. For this moment right here? I'm damn good. I know it might be hard to hear this, but I'm not going to be around forever. Someday...someday I'll just be gone. I have no idea how many days I have left, but I want to make them all as nice as the one I'm having right now."

Rachel paused, a good few seconds, before she said in a soft voice, "I...sorry. It's just...I love you, Daddy. I want to have you around, for as long as I can."

"I know, sweetie. I know. I said the same thing once, to your Grandma. But...well look. Let's get together for dinner tomorrow, okay? Think you can plan it quick enough to jump on the hyperloop and come over for the weekend?"

"...sure. Yes. I'd really like that."

"Great. And I'll tell you a story."

"Oh? What kind?"

"One about your mother and I. When we were very young." Chloe said.

"I'll see you tomorrow then. I love you."

"Love you too, kiddo. My best to your family."

Twitching her lips in thought, Chloe thought about how she might round out the rest of the day, before she went home. It seemed there were now preparations to make.

 _And maybe when I get home, I'll apologize to the kitchen._

Chloe turned around, and headed back to her car.

"Naahhh..."

* * *

Later on that day, Chloe decided to pay a visit to an old haunt.

She sat on the bench, in the shadow of the great lighthouse that stood silent vigil over the whole of the bay. The sun was already past its zenith, bathing the water in shimmering liquid gold. The city of Arcadia Bay spread out before her in one wide, encompassing sweep. Compared to its sleepy days of her youth, it was far larger, and much grander in scope. Were it not for the Two Whales, tucked away by the shore, her nineteen-year old self would never recognize it now.

The sparkling gleam of a solar panels on almost each and every rooftop. The autonomous aircraft darting to and fro like dragonflies, in the air above. The hustle and bustle of thousands of busy people, going about their lives. The great and the small, the important and the trivial...

...above all else, Arcadia Bay was _alive_ , in ways that none would have dared dream a century ago. Alive and looking optimistically towards a brighter future. For despite its very best efforts, Humanity was moving ahead, the worst of the existential threats it previously faced eliminated, or at least mitigated to a more manageable level. The world was far from a perfect utopia, to be certain; there were probably more people who were homeless and hungry than a moral people would consider acceptable. Conflict and war still raged, in seemingly distant parts of the world. People continued struggled with the timeless questions that had no perfect answer: how best to govern, where does the line get drawn between individual freedom and communal responsibility, what is the meaning of it all? There were still swaths of the planet, places in Japan, and the American Deep South, Africa and even Europe, where environmental devastation made human habitation all but impossible. But spirits were high that humankind would adapt. New technologies were being invented every day, which would help reclaim the places lost to the folly of Mankind's greed.

Then there was the permanent lunar settlement, celebrating it's tenth anniversary, and the colony on Mars was close to coming on line, any day now. The promise of fusion power was realized at last, providing clean, nearly limitless power, while also providing a method for effectively disposing of toxic waste once and for all.

Chloe looked over the land she once hated with a passion. The town upon which she laid the blame for all of her life's problems. In her mind's eye, she still saw the Arcadia Bay of her early youth as the mean and rotting husk of a once vital and industrious fishing village, lorded over by the rich and powerful, reveling in sickness and corruption. Chloe would go to her grave, fervent in the belief that the scourging of the old Bay was absolutely the best thing that could have happened to it. Of course, she'd always mourn for those who lost their lives, especially given the guilt she bore in their deaths.

 _But look at it now. Arcadia Bay._ My _Arcadia Bay. Someone had to do right by you...I'm glad it got to be me. Thank you..._

For the first time in a long while, Chloe felt some measure of disappointment that she wouldn't be around to what lay in store. Like Moses at the edge of the Promised Land, her fate was to look upon, but never enter into. Despite that, she could go in peace when her time came, secure in the knowledge that her child, and her children, and their children would live in a world that was just a little bit kinder than the one she knew.

With a content sigh, she closed her eyes, bathing in the warm sunlight.

When she slowly opened them again, she realized she must have dozed off. The sun was low, and majestic looking thunderheads, softly crackling with their tines of lightning, bore down on the city.

 _Huh. Those came in quick. Looks like...like a hell of a storm blowing in._

She wasn't worried though. It wasn't anything worse than the city faced in the past. Still, it wouldn't do to be caught out in it. Especially at her age.

She meant to stand, tried to rise up from the bench, when she realized...she couldn't.

Chloe wasn't paralyzed per se, but a great lethargy seized her. She felt spent; completely bereft of all energy. Almost as if she were trapped in her own body. She could breathe, maybe move her head around, but that was all.

There was a tickling on the top of her right hand, which lay limply at her side; a blue morpho butterfly sat upon it, slowly flapping its wings in time with her heartbeat.

There was no fear, in either of them.

"Oh. It's you." she husked "Always figured...you'd come back. For me."

It was getting harder to breathe now.

"Appreciate it...that you took your time..."

The cane slipped from her grip, as her eyes closed. Forever.

The butterfly soared into the air, triumphantly flying towards the clouds.


	19. Epilogue

**CHLOE PRICE-CAULFIELD, FORMER SENATOR, FIRST MAYOR OF ARCADIA BAY, DEAD AT 100  
** **(Arcadia Bay Intelligencer-Electron, April 28th 2094)  
** **[TEXT EDITION. PLEASE SEE ONLINE FOR ARCHIVAL VIDEO FOOTAGE LINKS]**

Chloe Price-Caulfield, former US Senator, Congresswoman, and first mayor of Arcadia Bay, was found dead at Lighthouse Point late yesterday afternoon. Local authorities were alerted to her passing when her neural weblink sent out a distress call at 5:46 PM, triggered by the loss of vital signs; her body was recovered ahead of last night's thunderstorm. According to data retrieved from her her link's datastack, she died suddenly of natural causes related to ongoing cardiac health issues. She is survived by her daughter Rachel, along with two grandchildren, and three great-grandchildren.

Known affectionately as 'The Grande Dame of Arcadia Bay', Price-Caulfield was one of the city's most prominent citizens, whom many saw as the mother of long renaissance which began eighty years ago. Despite an initially troubled youth that historians ascribe to the untimely death of her father in an automobile accident, she rose to prominence in 2013, in the tragic wake of Megastorm Azrael, an E6-class tornado that completely devastated the old town, and whose origins still puzzle meteorologists to this day.

Credited with single-handedly convincing, in a passionate and rousing speech, the remaining citizens of the old town to forgo disincorporation, Price-Caulfield spent many months working in the construction crews. During this time, she personally helped to rebuild and repair many of Arcadia Bay's core structures, including the Two Whales Diner and Blackwell Academy. Drafted into the position of Alderman-at-Large in the 2014 local election, she served as a powerful voice for the working and middle classes, helping to reorient the local economy away from the failing fishing industry, and towards green energy production and tourism. In 2019, after successfully leading the town council into reorganizing the local government into a mayoral system, she ran for and won the position of mayor, in which she served for fourteen years, a term of service that remained a record until Kesha Albright began her fifteenth year as mayor in 2087.

Also in 2019, then-Mayor Price married her longtime sweetheart and childhood friend Maxine Caulfield, herself a renowned photographic artist and beloved instructor at Blackwell Academy. They remained married until her death in 2084.

After stepping down from local government to start a family, Price-Caulfield re-entered the political scene in 2042, challenging and defeating Richard Sedac for the seat in Oregon's Fifth Congressional District. Known for a style that was publicly aggressive, but privately compromising, she served in the US House of Representatives for twenty years. Of her various achievements during that time, the most notable was her role in helping to push through and ratify the Twenty-Ninth Amendment to the Constitution.

After retirement, the former Congresswoman was content to live out the remaining years of her life in relative quiet and obscurity until she was convinced in 2086 to run for the Senate. After handily winning that election by the largest margin of victory in her career, she served a single term, steadfast and doggedly focused on leading the cause for ratification of the Thirtieth Amendment. The final end of her political service came in a dramatic fashion, suffering from a massive heart attack while delivering a speech at the Election Night victory party of her successor.

Praised throughout the years as a tough but fair negotiator, a loving wife and parent, and a classic example of the 'American Dream' and the power of second chances, Price-Caulfield was active in the local community up to the day of her death.

Per the terms of her will, her remains are to be ultimately cremated, with both the ashes of her and her wife scattered over the waters of the bay in several months time. A public funeral service is anticipated for mid-next week, with thousands of mourners expected to attend. Governor O'Dally has already indicated he plans to be present, and even the White House is considering sending the Vice-President as part of an official delegation, given the former Senator's unique role in American history. According to the late Senator's family, Senator Prescott-Chisholm will deliver the eulogy.

[ARTICLE CONTINUES ON PAGE A4]

* * *

 _Chloe takes a deep breath, not that she has need to, not anymore. But the experience of her new reality is still so new and fresh that she revels in it. Nothing hurts anymore; she feels as young as she was the day she and Max renewed their friendship after five years apart. Looks the same as well, with her blue hair, skater beanie, and white wife-beater shirt, although appearances are merely an illusion to her now. Someday, maybe in a few more decades, or after the first century or so, her mind will have evolved far enough to completely detach from the need for the concept._

 _In the here and now, however, she stands, hand in hand with another, in a green and well-manicured park, near the center of Arcadia Bay. They are present in this space, but none of the others, the ones who call themselves 'living' can perceive nor interact with them; compared to Max and herself, they are not quite ~solid~ enough._

 _But someday, they will be. Someday, they'll understand._

 _Her fingers are tightly threaded through those of the girl standing next to her; the plaid sweatshirt, the purple t-shirt, and black jeans, the Polaroid camera...they're all affectations now. Symbols of the woman she once was, familiar indicators to make her recognizable to the newly Awakened._

 _Their reunion was glorious. They've not stopped holding hands since. They may never let go of each other again; certainly, they don't have to._

 _Chloe smiles, as she peers with gentle pride at the statue that dominates the center of the park. The one of herself, looking the way she did around her late thirties. It's a good period in her life...flattering. The sharp edges of her youth worn away, but her bright spark is still best captured. The statue has an arm wrapped around one of Max; they're both glancing hopefully to the sky, to some part that Statute-Chloe is pointing out._

" _Ha! Wow. A statue. That is hella awesome. I mean, not that I was expecting anything like that..."_

" _Oh shut up!" Max giggles. "You were so expecting that. I mean shit, that was practically the first thing you were thinking, Ms. 'Oh! I'm Dead! Did They Make Me A Statue? Because I'd Really Like To See That.''_

 _Chloe smiles even wider in response. "Well, I_ was _pretty awesome, you know."_

 _Max leans in, resting her head on Chloe's shoulder. "WE were pretty awesome. Just you and me, together. But yes, beyond that...you know, I do think it's so super sweet that they put up a statue of you and me together. Granite, too! That says something, you know? In a society increasingly obsessed with producing things quickly and cheaply, making something authentic and enduring? That's more a sign of respect than ever before."_

" _Mmmmmhmmm. Yeeeeah. I might have put in a proviso in my will, setting aside some of our fortune for various projects in town. With the requirement that if they were going to put up any sort of a memorial, they weren't allowed to have it just be me alone. It had to be Us."_

" _Of course it did." Max smiles in response. She doesn't even question. She doesn't have to._

 _Turning to fully face her beloved, Chloe glances down and asks, "So. Now that I'm here. And you've had more time than me to adjust...can you tell me what it was all about?"_

 _Max reaches up, a coy smile on her lips, idling twisting one finger in her hair, and says, "Whatever could you mean, oh my love?"_

" _Ha ha. Baby, you know what I mean. The shit with the time traveling. The storm. Why you, why me? What did it all mean? I mean...there_ was _a reason behind it, right?"_

 _Max reaches up, caressing her cheek. Chloe leans into it, as her wife explains, "I'll tell you everything. Someday. When you're ready to fully understand. I'm only just barely starting to truly comprehend it all myself. But in the meantime, will you just accept it, when I tell you that the universe is far more complicated than we could have possibly imagined? That there are higher powers, of an almost inscrutable and unknowable nature? Both as personal in their regard towards us, as the Church fervently prays for, and as aloof as the average nihilist proclaims?"_

" _Uh...kay. That's deep. I guess I have no choice. But, I mean, getting to that level of understanding shouldn't be too difficult; after all, here I am. Life after Death. No more guessing, now I know for sure."_

" _Well, you'd be surprised." Max answers. "What we call death is just the beginning, Che. But there are more than a few who come here, and still cling to their ignorance, as they did before. I mean...the only real difference, the most important one, is that it's much easier to abandon those limitations now. Easier to become more than creatures ruled by stimulus response."_

" _Still doesn't answer my question entirely, you know?" Chloe points out._

" _No. It doesn't. But...hmmm. How best to put it in such a limited form as words...?" Max taps her lips in contemplation, for a moment, for a century, before continuing. "Sometimes these powers that I mentioned...they get it in their heads to give little tests. And no, you're starting to envision a scientist poking at a mouse, running it through a maze. It's nothing so simplistic. Still, I guess the metaphor works a little bit, even if it's totes ham-fisted."_

" _God, this hurts my head. And I don't even have a real head anymore!" Chloe half-complains. "So who was being tested, then?"_

" _Everyone." Max smiles. "But some more than others."_

" _Fucking hella weird."_

" _Yeah!" Max laughs. "Fucking...hella...weird." She wraps her arms around Chloe's neck, and pulls her down, nuzzling her face against her neck, then whispers in her ear. "Doesn't matter for now. There's time enough for understanding to come. Now? I'm just so happy we're together again. And we'll never be apart."_

 _Chloe closes eyes that don't actually exist and sighs. Already she understands enough to know that someday, there won't be a need for words. She and Max will be in perfect simpatico._

" _So what do we do next?"_

" _Anything you like. Everything. But you should really say hi to your parents, first. And Kate and Victoria. They're all here, and they'd love to see you."_

 _Chloe nods. She's eager to see them all as well, but still can't bring herself to fill the time, whatever that concept even means anymore, with anyone's company but her Max's._

" _One more kiss. Then we'll be good and say our hellos. I just wanna get my fill of you, first."_

 _Max laughs low in her throat. "That could be a while."_

" _I think we got a while, don't you?"_

" _I_ know _we do."_

 _Max tilts her head, mouth finding her beloved's. In their kiss, they become as one, intermingling a lifetime of experiences, sharing perspectives, attaining greater and greater understanding of each other, and what they are, together._

 _They kiss for a moment. They kiss for an eternity._

 **THE END**

* * *

 **A/N:** Whew. Well. That's it. That's all of it, more or less.

Hard to believe it's over and done with. There's always a certain sense of the surreal whenever you finally finish up a long piece. When you take all those disparate scenes you dreamed of in your head, over and over, and make them real, at long last. I always find it fascinating to see how the initial platonic ideals change as they get put to electronic paper, because there were definitely some things that changed on the fly from my vision of them five months ago; Chloe was going to die on the porch of her house, with a ghost-Max holding her hand...Max's answer at the very end, about the Why, was going to be far more definitive, and less mysterious. Sometimes it's a huge disappointment, but I feel ilke this time, it came out a bit better than I first envisioned.

I'm glad I pushed through to the ending so fast. I hadn't realized how emotionally draining the last three chapters would become. So much of it was drawn on my own experiencing with loved ones aging and dying, and I suppose to a certain extent there is a bit of my own personal musings and ruminations on life, now that I've reached the midway point at 40.

Anyhow: thank yous! I want to thank each and every one of you who took the time to read my words. I want to double-triple thank _everyone_ who took even more time to review. **Theodur, Candle in the Night,** **Guardian of Azarath** (who caught a goof I made in the first section of this chapter, thanks!), **GrumpyCat42,** and **Alpenwolf** , thank you the most. And everyone else who I probably should have thanked more for, and stupidly forgot.

And thank you, **White Story** , for more or less convincing me that someday down the road, probably weeks or months from now, I ought to put out one last coda, to answer the question I seem to have left everyone with: Did Rachel ever find out, somehow, about what really happened in 2013? Rest assured, I already have a significant outline plotted out in my head.

Thanks to **NuQueerWarhead** and **Corentin IV,** my writing sisters from another misters, just because I never turn down the chance to thank them for their support, ever. :-)

An apology to a certain someone, if they are still reading. They know who they are. I still regret the way things ended between us.

And finally, last but not least, I want to thank **LilyGHall** again for the lovely piece of fanart that she sent me, which became the cover image for this story. She seemed to have dropped off the face of FFN, so I hope she's doing well. It's the first and only bit of fan tribute I've ever gotten, so it's still very precious to me.

So that's that. Black Swan starts back up next Saturday. Riotgrrls in Love will...get finished up eventually, though I'm still sadly more or less out of ideas. But I think I have a good ending at the very least. See you around!

...

Hitting "Completed" is always the hardest part.


End file.
